From their language he found that these soldiers were Tartars， and from their words， that they preceded the invading army.
In short， what Michael learnt from the talk at the present moment， as well as from the scraps of conversation he overheard later， was this. These men were not under the direct orders of the Emir， who was now detained beyond the Yenisei. They made part of a third column chiefly composed of Tartars from the khanats of Khokland and Koondooz， with which Feofar's army was to affect a junction in the neighborhood of Irkutsk.
By Ogareff's advice， in order to assure the success of the invasion in the Eastern provinces， this column had skirted the base of the Altai Mountains. Pillaging and ravaging， it had reached the upper course of the Yenisei. There， guessing what had been done at Krasnoiarsk by order of the Czar， and to facilitate the passage of the river to the Emir's troops， this column had launched a flotilla of boats， which would enable Feofar to cross and r俿um？the road to Irkutsk. Having done this， it had descended the valley of the Yenisei and struck the road on a level with Alsalevsk. From this little town began the frightful course of ruin which forms the chief part of Tartar warfare.
Nijni-Oudinsk had shared the common fate， and the Tartars， to the number of fifty thousand， had now quitted it to take up a position before Irkutsk. Before long， they would be reinforced by the Emir's troops.
Such was the state of affairs at this date， most serious for this isolated part of Eastern Siberia， and for the comparatively few defenders of its capital.
It can be imagined with what thoughts Michael's mind was now occupied！
Who could have been astonished had he， in his present situation， lost all hope and all courage？ Nothing of the sort， however； his lips muttered no other words than these： "I will get there！"Half an hour after the attack of the Tartar horsemen， Michael Strogoff， Nadia， and Nicholas entered Nijni-Oudinsk. The faithful dog followed them， though at a distance.
They could not stay in the town， as it was in flames， and about to be left by the last of the marauders.
The prisoners were therefore thrown on horses and hurried away；Nicholas resigned as usual， Nadia， her faith in Michael unshaken， and Michael himself， apparently indifferent， but ready to seize any opportunity of escaping.
The Tartars were not long in perceiving that one of their prisoners was blind， and their natural barbarity led them to make game of their unfortunate victim. They were traveling fast.
Michael's horse， having no one to guide him， often started aside， and so made confusion among the ranks. This drew on his rider such abuse and brutality as wrung Nadia's heart， and filled Nicholas with indignation. But what could they do？ They could not speak the Tartar language， and their assistance was mercilessly refused.
Soon it occurred to these men， in a refinement of cruelty， to exchange the horse Michael was riding for one which was blind.
The motive of the change was explained by a remark which Michael overheard， "Perhaps that Russian can see， after all！"Michael was placed on this horse， and the reins ironically put into his hand. Then， by dint of lashing， throwing stones， and shouting， the animal was urged into a gallop.
The horse， not being guided by his rider， blind as himself， sometimes ran into a tree， sometimes went quite off the road--in consequence， collisions and falls， which might have been extremely dangerous.
Michael did not complain. Not a murmur escaped him.
When his horse fell， he waited until it got up.
It was， indeed， soon assisted up， and the cruel fun continued.
At sight of this wicked treatment， Nicholas could not contain himself； he endeavored to go to his friend's aid.
He was prevented， and treated brutally.
This game would have been prolonged， to the Tartars'
great amusement， had not a serious accident put an end to it.
On the 10th of September the blind horse ran away， and made straight for a pit， some thirty or forty feet deep， at the side of the road.
Nicholas tried to go after him. He was held back.
The horse， having no guide， fell with his rider to the bottom.
Nicholas and Nadia uttered a piercing cry！ They believed that their unfortunate companion had been killed.
However， when they went to his assistance， it was found that Michael， having been able to throw himself out of the saddle， was unhurt， but the miserable horse had two legs broken， and was quite useless.
He was left there to die without being put out of his suffering， and Michael， fastened to a Tartar's saddle， was obliged to follow the detachment on foot.
Even now， not a protest， not a complaint！ He marched with a rapid step， scarcely drawn by the cord which tied him.
He was still "the Man of Iron，" of whom General Kissoff had spoken to the Czar！
The next day， the 11th of September， the detachment passed through the village of Chibarlinskoe. Here an incident occurred which had serious consequences. It was nightfall.
The Tartar horsemen， having halted， were more or less intoxicated.
They were about to start. Nadia， who till then， by a miracle， had been respectfully treated by the soldiers， was insulted by one of them.
Michael could not see the insult， nor the insulter， but Nicholas saw for him. Then， quietly， without thinking， without perhaps knowing what he was doing， Nicholas walked straight up to the man， and， before the latter could make the least movement to stop him， had seized a pistol from his holster and discharged it full at his breast.
The officer in command of the detachment hastened up on hearing the report. The soldiers would have cut the unfortunate Nicholas to pieces， but at a sign from their officer， he was bound instead， placed across a horse， and the detachment galloped off.
The rope which fastened Michael， gnawed through by him， broke by the sudden start of the horse， and the half-tipsy rider galloped on without perceiving that his prisoner had escaped.
Michael and Nadia found themselves alone on the road.
