Short Fiction by Xavier de Maistre (digital e reader txt) 📕

some hours, the horde prepared itself for continuing its march, when one of its stragglers arrived, bringing the news that the Russians were advancing, and that probably the troops of several redoubts would unite in its pursuit. The chiefs of the clan deliberated upon what they should do, not only to conceal the place of their retreat and to secure their prisoners, but to keep the enemy from disturbing their villages and avoid retaliation: with these several views, the horde dispersed itself on several roads. Ten men were destined to conduct the two prisoners, and a hundred troopers set out together, in an opposite direction. They obliged the Major to take off his boots, lest their iron heels should lead to the discovery of their retreats, and Kascambo, as well as his servant, was obliged to march barefoot, during a part of the night.

Arrived near a rapid stream, the little escort marched about half a verst up on the bank, and descended at a place where the shore was steepest, through a thorny ravine, and with the greatest care avoided leaving any trace of their march. The Major was so exhausted, that it was necessary to hold him with straps at the steep descent. His feet being much lacerated, the robbers returned him his boots, to enable him to make the rest of the journey. Lest he should die, and they should thus lose all the benefit of their enterprise, they determined, on their arrival at the first village, to treat him with humanity. They allowed him a little rest, and put him on a horse when they broke up from the halt. From time to time, they permitted him again to gather strength, and gave him enough to eat. They traversed thus several villages and valleys, the situation of which they hoped to conceal from their prisoners, by frequently bandaging their eyes. A large river which they passed, the Major thought must be the Sonja.

When they, at last, reached the village where they intended to secure their prisoners, the Tchetchengs changed suddenly their behaviour towards the Major. They put chains and gyves upon his hands and feet, and a chain round his neck, at the end of which was fixed a thick piece of oak. They treated Ivan less roughly; the fetters with which they fastened him were not so heavy, and they permitted him to assist his master.

While in this situation, and at each instance of cruel treatment, a person who spoke the Russian language, visited the Major, and advised him to write to his friends, in order to dispose them to purchase his liberty. The ransom was fixed at ten thousand roubles. The prisoner had no means of paying so large a sum, and all his hopes rested on the Government, who had some years previous paid a large price for a colonel, who had, like him, fallen into the power of the robbers. The interpreter offered to furnish him with paper, and promised to forward his letters; but after the Major had consented, many days passed without his returning to see him; and, during this interval, the prisoner was doomed to endure even worse treatment than before. They almost starved him; they took from him the mat on which he had slept, and the saddle cushions which served him as a pillow. When the officious adviser made his reappearance, he prefaced his speech, by disclosing the important secret, that if the fixed ransom was not soon paid, the Tchetchengs would put him to death, to avoid the expense and trouble of keeping him a prisoner. At the same time, he presented to him a pen made of reed, after the Tartar manner, and Kascambo’s chains were loosened to enable him to write. When he had finished his letter, the interpreter translated it to the chiefs, who promised to forward it to the commanding officer of the Line. The increased severity with which he was treated, during the preceding days, arose from an intention of urging the prisoner to solicit his Government, in more pressing terms, for his rescue.

When he had thus complied with the wishes of his captors, his bonds were reduced to a single chain that secured his feet and hands.

His host, or rather his gaoler, was a man of about sixty years of age, of gigantic stature and a ferocious countenance, which his character was far from belying. He had lost two of his sons in an encounter with the Russians, and this was partly the reason, why the prisoners were put under his guard.

The family of this man, whose name was Ibrahim, consisted of the widow of one of his sons, thirty-five years old, and of a child between seven and eight years, called Mamet. The woman was as hardhearted as himself, and besides extremely peevish. Kascambo suffered much from her; but the sportive familiarity and caresses of her little boy beguiled many of his sorrowful hours, and really alleviated the weight of his misfortune. Mamet had become so attached to him, that his grandfather could neither by threats nor lashes, keep him from running to the Major, whenever he found an opportunity. The boy called him his Koniac, which, in the idiom of the country, signifies “friend or guest.” He often brought him fruits, and during the time that the Major was kept upon a low diet, his little friend watched the opportunity of his parent’s absence, to bring him bread and potatoes roasted in ashes.

Several months had elapsed since the letter had been forwarded, and nothing remarkable occurred. Ivan had, in this time, grown into great favour with the old man and the woman, or at least had rendered himself necessary to them. He was as skilful a cook as any soldier, who has the honour of supplying the mess of an officer commanding a detachment. Nobody excelled him in the preparation of the kislit chi, (a liquor made of flour) or of salt cucumbers; and he