These grand battles happen but seldom, and when they do occur, it is probably always against the wolf's wish. His system of warfare is a predatory one, and his policy is rather to surprise outpostsv, than to meditate a general attack. He trusts more to his cunning than his strength. He will creep cautiously through the grass, taking especial care to keep to leeward of the taboon, and he will remain crouched in ambush till he perceive a mare and her foal grazing a little apart from the rest. Even then he makes no attempt to spring upon his prey, but keeps creeping nearer and nearer, with his head leaning on his fore feet, and wagging his tail in a friendly manner, to imitate, as much as possible, the movements and gestures of a watch-dog. If the mare, deceived by the treacherous pantomime, venture near enough to the enemy, he will spring at her throat, and despatch hdr before she have time to raise an alaiTn ; then, seizing on the foal, he will make off with his booty, and be out of sight perhaps before either herd or herdsman suspect his presence. It is not often, however, that the wolf succeeds in obtaining so easy a victory. If the mare detect him, an instant alarm is raised, and should the tabuntshik be near, the wolf seldom fails to enrich him with a skin, for which the fur merchant is at all times willing to pay his ten or twelve rubles. The wolfs only chance, on such occasions, is to make for the first ravine, down wliich he rolls head foremost, a gymnastic feat that the tabuntshik on his hoi-se cannot venture to imitate.
As the summer draws on, the wolf becomes less troublesome to the taboon ; but a season now begins of severe suffering for the poor horses, who have more perhaps to endure from the thirst of summer, than from the hunger of winter. The heat becomes intolerable, and shade is nowhere to be found, save what the animals can themselves create, by gathermg together in little groups, each seeking to place the body of his neighbour between himself and the burning rays of a merciless sun. The tabuntshik often lays himself in the centre of the group, for lie also has nowhere else a shady couch to hope for.
The autumn again is a season of enjoyment. The plains are anewcovered with green, the springs yield once more an abundant supply of water, and the horses gather strength at this period of abundance, to prepare themselves for the sufferings and privations of winter. In autumn, for the first time in the year, the taboon is called on to work, but the work is not much more severe than the exertions which the restless creatures are daily imposing upon themselves while romping and rioting about on the steppe. The work in question is the threshing of the corn.
A thresliing-lloor, of several bundled yards square, is made, by cutting away the turf, and beating the ground into a hard solid surface. The whole is enclosed by a railing, with a gate to let the horses in and out. The sheaves of corn are then spread out and laid in strata over each other. In small farms, wiiere only eight or ten horses are disposable for this kind of work, each horse is expected to thresh his thirty or forty sheaves ; but in larger estabhshments, where half a taboon can be set to work at once, a score of sheaves is the utmost ever allowed for each thresher. On such a floor, supposing the taboon to consist of a thousand horses, five hundred score of sheaves will be laid down at once. The taboon is then formed into two divisions. The tabuntshik and his assistants drive their five hundred steeds into the enclosure, stallions, mares, foals, and all, for when once in, the more riotous they are the better the work wiU be done. The gate is closed, and then begins a ball, of which it requires a Hvely imagination to conceive a picture. The drivers act as musicians, and their formidable harabniks are the fiddles that keep up the dance without intermission. The horses, terrified partly by the crackling straw under their feet, and partly by the incessant cracking of the whip over their heads, dart half frantic from one extremity to the other of then temporary prison. Millions of grains are flying about in the air, and the labourers without have enough to do to toss back the sheaves that are flung over the railing by the prancing, hard-working threshers within. This continues for about an hour. The horses are then let out, the corn turned, and the same performance repeated three times before noon. By that time, a thousand sheffel of corn have been threshed, after a fashion that looks more Hke a holiday diversion than a hard day's work. This description, of course, applies only to an agricultural establishment on a very large scale, and it may not be amiss to add, that in such a threshing operation more corn is lost, than is gained on many large farms in Germany.