"In vain Azamat pleaded with him; he tried tears, flattery, and profanity, until finally Kazbich lost patience with him: 'Get away with you, boy! Are you crazy? You could never ride my horse! He'd throw you after the first three paces and you'd smash your head against a rock.'

"'Me?' Azamat screamed in a fury, and his child's dagger rang against the coat of mail. A strong arm flung him back and he fell against the corral fence so violently that it shook. 'Now the fun will begin,' thought I and dashed into the stable, bridled our horses and led them to the yard at the back. Two minutes later a terrific uproar broke out in the hut. This is what happened: Azamat ran into the hut in a torn shirt shouting that Kazbich had tried to kill him. Everybody rushed out and went for their rifles-and the fun was on! There was screaming and shouting and shots were fired, but Kazbich was already on his horse spinning around like a demon in the midst of the crowd swinging away with his saber. 'It'd be big trouble to get mixed up in this,' said I to Grigoriy Aleksandrovich as I caught him by the arm. 'Hadn't we better scram as fast as we can?'

"'Let's wait a bit and see how it ends.'

"'It's sure to end badly-that's what always happens with these Asiatics, as soon as they have enough drink they go slashing each other.' We got on our horses and rode home.