On the right of the Straits, or, in other words, at the south-eastern extremity, the coast of Taman — famed for its horses, its horsemen, and its buckwheat — offered a varied outline of steep cliffs, or of sheets of verdure descending to the water's edge, and the white houses and steeples of Fanagoria could be seen in the distance. The military road to Anapa wound along a narrow isthmus further south on the right, below the narrow Strait of Bourgas, leading to one of the estuaries which indented the land in all directions in this region of salt lakes, isthmuses, and sandbanks. From Cape Takil to the land on the opposite side of the Straits the distance is about seven miles and a half. The country on both sides, though bright and green, had a desolate aspect, in consequence of the absence of trees, and enclosures, but the numberless windmills on both sides of the Strait proved the fertility of the soil and the comfortable state of the population.
From Cape Takil to Ambalaki, where the expeditionary forces landed, the distance was about twelve miles. It was a poor place, built on a small cliff over the sea, which at the south side swept down to the beach by the margin of a salt-water lake. As there was no force to oppose the landing, the men were easily disembarked on a sandy beach, out of range of the batteries, and close to the salt-water lake. This movement threatened to take the Russians who were in the batteries in the rear, and to cut off their communication with Kertch, which was situated in a bay, concealed from the view of Ambalaki by the Cape of Ak-Bournou.{267}
At forty minutes past one P.M., on approaching Kara-Bournou, a huge pillar of white smoke rushed up towards the skies, opened out like a gigantic balloon, and then a roar like the first burst of a thunder-storm told us that a magazine had blown up. At a quarter past two another loud explosion took place, and a prodigious quantity of earth was thrown into the air along with the smoke. A third magazine was blown up at twenty-five minutes past two. A tremendous explosion, which seemed to shake the sea and air, took place about three o'clock; and at half-past, three several columns of smoke blending into one, and as many explosions, the echoes of which roared and thundered away together, announced that the Russians were destroying their last magazines. They could be seen retreating, some over the hills behind Kertch, others towards Yenikale.
A most exciting scene now took place towards the northward. One of the enemy's steamers had run out of the Bay of Kertch, which was concealed from our view by the headland, and was running for the Straits of Yenikale. She was a low schooner-rigged craft, like a man-of-war, and it was uncertain whether she was a government vessel or not. And, just as she passed the cape, two Russian merchantmen slipped out and also made towards Yenikale. A gunboat dashed after her across the shallows. At the same moment a fine roomy schooner came bowling down with a fair breeze from Yenikale, evidently intending to aid her consort, and, very likely, despising the little antagonist which pursued her. The gunboat flew on and passed the first merchantman, at which she fired a shot, by way of making her bring-to. The forts at Kertch instantly opened, shot after shot splashed up the water near the gunboat, which kept intrepidly on her way. As the man-of-war schooner ran down towards the Russian steamer, the latter gained courage, slackened her speed, and lay-to as if to engage her enemy. A sheet of flame and smoke rushed from the gunboat's sides, and her shot flying over the Russian, tossed up a pillar of water far beyond her. Alarmed at this taste of her opponent's quality, and intimation of her armament, the Russian took flight, and the schooner wore and bore away for Yenikale again, with the gunboat after both of them. Off the narrow straits between Yenikale and the sandbank as the English gunboat, which had been joined by another, ran towards them, a Russian battery opened upon her from the town. The gunboats still dashed at their enemies, which tacked, wore, and ran in all directions, as a couple of hawks would harry a flock of larks.
Sir Edmund Lyon sent off light steamers to reinforce the two hardy little fellows, the French steamers also rushed to the rescue. The batteries on the sandbank were silenced; they blew up their magazines, and the fort at Yenikale soon followed their example.