eastern side of the plateau. Three or four hundred yards from the church, in the middle of the flowery plain, a company of Cossacks, dressed in dark-green uniforms and armed with Berdan rifles, were practising what seemed to be the Russian skirmish drill. They had been divided into three squads, each of which, under the direction of an officer, was manceuvering against an imaginary enemy. Now they would rush forward at "double-quick," firing at will as they advanced, then they would suddenly close up, throw themselves at full length on the ground, and in that position deliver volley after volley until they were hidden in powder smoke, and finally the three squads would unite and charge fiercely in solid column, with the peculiar continuous Russian "oor-rah-ah-ah-ah-ah!" which has been heard with anxiety and dread by the defenders of many a Turkish, redoubt.
The shops of the Altái Station were only three or four in number, and I found in them few things that were either curious or interesting. Perhaps, however, I should qualify this statement by limiting it to things purchasable. The shops were full of Kírghis buyers and Kírghis horses, and in many respects they were interesting enough to satisfy the most exacting foreign traveler. There is a certain amount of adventurous interest in the mere act of forcing one's way into a shop when the shop is full of Kírghis and the door is completely blocked up with the bodies of Kírghis saddle-horses. Hitching-posts at the Altái Station are entirely unknown, and in the absence of such conveniences Kírghis horsemen are accustomed to lead their horses directly into the shops that they have occasion to visit and hold them there by the bridles while they themselves stand at the counter and examine goods. As a result of this interesting custom you will often see four or five Kírghis horses whose heads and fore-legs are across the threshold of a shop door, while their hind-quarters are massed in a sort of reversed equine phalanx outside. If you have not
