Life of Schamyl | Page 5

rising and the setting sun sheds over the
ruggedness of the limestone and the porphyry. Near at hand are seen
one or two heights which are clad with perpetual snows; while
westward, far away beyond the lower highlands, the view is terminated
by the white form of Mt. Kasbek.
The internal aspect of the aoul is less pleasing. Most of the streets are
steep and crooked, though the scattered position of the dwellings in
others, affords some sites both open and level. The roofs are generally
flat; the walls, almost destitute of windows, are rough with unhewn
stones; and many of the houses lie half buried under the rocky
mountain side. These are without numbers as the streets are without
names. Here, moreover, rises no village spire to point the thoughts of
men heavenward; no church bell rings out its merry festal peals, or tolls
the march to the grave; no sundial marks the succession of the hours
which pass by unheeded all, save those of morning, noon, and evening;
and in no public school-house is heard the low buzz of children
conning their tasks. But the mollah calls to prayers from the minaret of
a humble mosque; and in a dark corner illumined by aslant rays from a
small high window in a wall, teaches to some half a dozen urchins the
strange Arabic letters and the chants of the Koran. From the going
down of the sun until early morn not a light is seen throughout the aoul,
nor scarcely a sound heard, save the howling of the watch-dogs and the
plaintive crying of the jackals in the forests. Indeed, the only hour in
the day when there is any appearance of life in these streets is at noon,
when the labors of the garden and the exercises of the games being
suspended, many of the male inhabitants either sit about idle, or lie
sleeping like Italian lazzaroni, or stand grouped together in long,
light-colored surtouts with a negligent grace and natural dignity not
surpassed in antique statues. Here and there one more diligent
burnishes his arms, and another grooms his horse. A few veiled women
come and go, bearing jars of water or other burdens, though most of the
female population are occupied in their apartments with the preparation
of food, and in the labors of the loom and spindle; while young children,
half-naked, play around the house doors and through the lanes with an
activity in strong contrast with the prevailing tone of grave and
somnolent repose.

V.
HIS PARENTS, ATALIK, AND TEACHER.
Of the parents of Schamyl nothing is known; nor is this lack of
information greatly to be regretted, considering that they lived in a state
of society where there is so little inequality of classes or diversity of
external condition. His father not being probably a chief of the tribe,
was a freeman and peer among his fellows, possessing like them a
small, amphitheatrical house, the husband of but one wife, owning a
war-horse, and arms, besides a few sheep and goats, and the proprietor
of a garden supported by terraces on a neighboring mountain side.
Nor is it known who was his foster-father, or atalik; for according to
the custom prevalent in western, and to some extent in eastern Circassia,
he may at an early age have been adopted by some one in whose family
he resided during the years spent in learning the rudiments of letters
and the art of war, and who sustained a relation towards him even more
intimate and affectionate than that of his own father. The atalik would
have supplied the boy with food and clothing, instruction, and a home,
without expecting any other compensation than such plunder as the
latter during his pupilage might bring in from the enemy, together with
the gratitude through life of both himself and his family. And this he
could well afford to do, being possessed of means somewhat superior
to those of the majority of his clansmen. If descended from a family
among the first in the tribe and long illustrious in arms, he might own
as many as fifteen hundred head of cattle, and an equal number of
sheep, besides a small herd of horses and mares. Like the ancient
patriarchs, he would have his wives and his servants, some of them
captured in forays, and all living together as one family in a stone
house of several stories and defended by a high tower.
This practice of transferring young children from the parental mansion
to that of an atalik, seems to have had its origin in the same fear lest
natural affection might lead to effeminacy of character which induced
the Spartans to send their infants on a shield to be delivered over to the

nursery of the State. In