. All the Russias; travels and studies in contemporary European Russia, Finland, Siberia, the Caucasus, & Central Asia. loin of mutton, smoked without andcrude within, smothered in the aforesaid onion, manifests itself,and timidly we address ourselves to it. Fork and knife recoilsimultaneously from each knobby piece, and one mouthful(which never gets any farther) contents each inquiring meat, hacked without any relation to its fibre, its grain,or its bones, is absolutely fresh, is also quite uncooked, andonly hours of stewing could have made it fit to eat. Would you try the plat nat
. All the Russias; travels and studies in contemporary European Russia, Finland, Siberia, the Caucasus, & Central Asia. loin of mutton, smoked without andcrude within, smothered in the aforesaid onion, manifests itself,and timidly we address ourselves to it. Fork and knife recoilsimultaneously from each knobby piece, and one mouthful(which never gets any farther) contents each inquiring meat, hacked without any relation to its fibre, its grain,or its bones, is absolutely fresh, is also quite uncooked, andonly hours of stewing could have made it fit to eat. Would you try the plat national again ?—it might bebetter here, says some one, a day or two later. Not again, 194 ALL THE RUSSIAS is the reply ; let us wait till we get to England ; my cookdoes it beautifully : Navets de mouton a la hroche. No moreCircassian shashlik baa-ing at me, if you please. I made plans at Kasbek for an early ride up the mountainsopposite, to see the little ancient church, 1400 feet above us,of Tsminda-Sameba, not that of itself this presents much in-terest, but the view of the mountain, and especially of its great. THE GEORGIAN ROAD —ROUND THE MOUNTAIN SIDE black side where Prometheus was chained (though the legend isinaccurate after all, for yEschylus distinctly speaks of Pro-metheus rock as above the sea and far from the Caucasus), wassaid to be beautiful, and I wished to enjoy a ride in true Cau-casian spirit. A quarter to seven was the hour fixed, and Iretired early, to be ready. When I arose at six, it was upon aworld of snow that I looked out. Everything was white, andthat broad-fiaked, Christmas-card kind of snow we used to havein England, was falling. The stables and the yard were white ; THE GEORGIAN ROAD 195 the poor camel even had httle drifts between his humps, andabsurd tufts of it all over him ; you could not see fifty yardsaway, and all the mountains had retired within the veil. Thisput off my ride, and even alarmed us somewhat about thePass and its condition.
Size: 1803px × 1385px
Photo credit: © Reading Room 2020 / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookauthortolstoyl, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1902
