h which I shared my
scanty rations. Every day I passed beyond the ramparts, and I went and
fired away against the scouts of Pugatchef. In these sort of skirmishes
the rebels generally got the better of us, as they had plenty of food
and were capitally mounted.

Our thin, starved cavalry was unable to stand against them. Sometimes
our famished infantry took the field, but the depth of the snow
prevented action with any success against the flying cavalry of the
enemy. The artillery thundered vainly from the height of the ramparts,
and in the field guns could not work because of the weakness of the
worn-out horses. This is how we made war, and this is what the officials
of Orenburg called prudence and foresight.

One day, when we had succeeded in dispersing and driving before us a
rather numerous band, I came up with one of the hindmost Cossacks, and I
was about to strike him with my Turkish sabre when he took off his cap
and cried--

"Good day, Petr' Andrejitch; how is your health?"

I recognized our "_ouriadnik_." I cannot say how glad I was to see him.

"Good day, Maximitch," said I, "is it long since you left Belogorsk?"

"No, not long, my little father, Petr' Andrejitch; I only came back
yesterday. I have a letter for you."

"Where is it?" I cried, overjoyed.

"I have got it," rejoined Maximitch, putting his hand into his breast.
"I promised Palashka to give it to you."

He handed me a folded paper, and immediately darted off at full gallop.
I opened it and read with emotion the following lines--

"It has pleased God to deprive me at once of my father and my mother. I
have no longer on earth either parents or protectors. I have recourse to
you, because I know you have always wished me well, and also that you
are ever ready to help those in need. I pray God this letter may reach
you. Maximitch has promised me he will ensure it reaching you. Palashka
has also heard Maximitch say that he often sees you from afar in the
sorties, and that you do not take care of yourself, nor think of those
who pray God for you with tears.

"I was long ill, and when at last I recovered, Alexey Ivanytch, who
commands here in the room of my late father, forced Father Garasim to
hand me over to him by threatening him with Pugatchef. I live under his
guardianship in our house. Alexey Ivanytch tries to oblige me to marry
him. He avers that he saved my life by not exposing Akoulina
Pamphilovna's stratagem when she spoke of me to the