"As we entered the gorge which leads into the valley of Varnutka we met some Tartar families, men and children, on the road, looking out possibly for some place to squat on. These poor creatures are menaced with a forced return to their nomadic habits of centuries ago. Civilization has corrupted them. The youngsters run alongside your horse, crying out, if you are English, 'I say, Johnny, piaster! give me piaster, Johnny!' if you are French, 'Doe dong (intended for dites donc), donnez moi piaster' — when young, a bright-eyed, handsome race, with fine teeth and clear complexions; and when old, venerable-looking, owing to their marked features and long beards, but in manhood sly, avaricious, shy, and suspicious. The Russians give bad accounts of them, and say they are not to be trusted, that they are revengeful and ill-disposed — the slave-owner's account of his nigger. Most of the fruit-trees in the pretty valley of Miskomia and Varnutka have been cut down for fuel. Crossing the ridge which separates this valley from that of Baidar, we pass the gutted and half-ruined chateau dit 'Peroffsky.' For a long time this charming little villa supplied French and English cavalry outposts with delicious, wine from its cellars, and was spared from ruin; but bit by bit things were taken away, and at last a general spoliation of all the place contained was made — the furniture was smashed to atoms, the doors broken, the windows carried away. One officer attached to the light cavalry regiment quartered there took away a handsome china service, and most of these dangerous visitors brought off some memento of their visits. The Tartars were rather rejoiced at the ruin of the place, for Count Peroffsky was no favourite with them, but they always express the greatest regard and affection for Prince Woronzoff. Baidar itself — a middling Tartar hamlet at the best of times — looks worse than ever now; garance dyed breeches were hanging out of the window-holes on all sides, and outside one very shaky, tumble-down wattle-house, there was a board declaring that there was good eating and drinking in the 'Café Pelissier.' The village has one advantage, of which no Tartar village is ever destitute — a stream of clear water flows through it, and there are two or three fine springs close at hand. The people are miserable; the men are employed by the French as woodcutters and as drivers of arabas, but the money they receive is not sufficient to procure them full supplies of food or proper clothing.
"From Baidar the road ascends by the mountain ridges to the Foross or Phoros Pass, and affords many delightful views of the great valley of Baidar, which is, as it were, a vast wooded basin, surrounded by mountain and hill ranges covered with trees, and sweeping right round it. Blackbirds, thrushes, nightingales, large gaudy jays, wood-pigeons, doves, rock-pigeons, hawks, falcons, and{476} great numbers of magpies, frequent the valley, and those which have good voices make it right musical towards sunset. Nightingales are very numerous, and so are varieties of flycatchers, titmice, and buntings. In winter, the hills are full of woodcock, the springs are haunted by snipe, wild duck, widgeon, and teal; and the woods give shelter not only to roe-deer, but, if certain reports promulgated this winter are to be believed, to wolves and bears. The road to Phoros is not good, and in winter must have been of little use. The summit of the pass at Phoros is surmounted by a stone arch which crosses the road at a place guarded by walls of rock, hundreds of feet in height. There is a French guard here, and, of course, we had to exhibit our passes. That was but a little matter, but on entering the archway we found it was fortified after the first rules of art: there were traverses and parapets of great height and thickness, and at the other side of the arch were similar obstacles. The mules were taken out of the cart; then it was unloaded, and the things carried one by one to the other side of these entrenchments; then the wheels were taken off, and by the united strength of our whole party, aided by some good-natured French soldiers, the cart itself was lifted up bodily and carried across all the gabions, earthworks, and traverses, and landed with a cheer on the narrow road at the other side of the pass.