. All the Russias: travels and studies in contemporary European Russia, Finland, Siberia, the Caucasus, and Central Asia. le had been accomplished. Elbruz was again climbed in 1875by Mr. F. Crauford Grove, and in 1884 by M. de Dechy, a Hungarian the curious jealousy of foreigners makes local writers still loath to admit thefact, though repeated descriptions have made the ascents familiar to all the his Guide au Caucase, published in 1891, M. J. Mourier has this amusingsentence about Kasbek: Trois anglais: Freschwild, Mour et Tecker, membresdu club alpestre de Londres, pre
. All the Russias: travels and studies in contemporary European Russia, Finland, Siberia, the Caucasus, and Central Asia. le had been accomplished. Elbruz was again climbed in 1875by Mr. F. Crauford Grove, and in 1884 by M. de Dechy, a Hungarian the curious jealousy of foreigners makes local writers still loath to admit thefact, though repeated descriptions have made the ascents familiar to all the his Guide au Caucase, published in 1891, M. J. Mourier has this amusingsentence about Kasbek: Trois anglais: Freschwild, Mour et Tecker, membresdu club alpestre de Londres, pretendent etre parvenus jusqua sa cime le 18/30 Juin,1868. 192 ALL THE RUSSIAS of each stage, I saw he served some curious purpose. It is this:droves of camels come from time to time over the Pass, and un-less the horses were accustomed to the sight and smell of thesemis-shapen creatures they would take fright, perhaps where theway was narrow and the clififs steep, and a catastrophe wouldresult. Therefore at each station lives a camel, whose only busi-ness in life is to scare each passing horse into the contempt which. The Castle of Princess Tamara in the Gorge of Dariel, Georgian Road. familiarity breeds. Perhaps he understands this, and that is whyhe stalks unheard up to a panting, sweating animal quenchingits thirst, and suddenly thrusts his long hairy face at it, just asnaughty children say Boo! to each other when they meetin the dark. It is one of those simple explanations which yetstrike one as ludicrous, and at each post-house I am smitten THE GEORGIAN ROAD 193 anew by this strange exigency, and this fresh proof of Russiasboundless ethnological complications. We are to stay over-night at Kasbek, and we make our-selves comfortable in the barrack-like chambers that are placedat our disposal. When we descend to the buffet for dinner,our enthusiasm hurls us in the direction of the national plat ofshashlik—the delicious Caucasian mutton, cooked a la hrochcover a wood fire. We
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