of the Caucasus. On alighting at the post-station, we at once ordered
horses for the next stage, and received the laconic reply, "There are no
horses."

"And when will there be some?"

"To-morrow!"

This last reply we took for a piece of playful exaggeration, and
demanded the book in which, according to law, the departure of horses
is duly inscribed, and from which it is easy to calculate when the first
team should be ready to start. A short calculation proved that we
ought to get horses by four o'clock in the afternoon, so we showed the
station-keeper various documents signed by the Minister of the
Interior and other influential personages, and advised him to avoid all
contravention of the postal regulations.

These documents, which proved that we enjoyed the special protection
of the authorities, had generally been of great service to us in our
dealings with rascally station-keepers; but this station-keeper was not
one of the ordinary type. He was a Cossack, of herculean proportions,
with a bullet-shaped head, short-cropped bristly hair, shaggy eyebrows,
an enormous pendent moustache, a defiant air, and a peculiar expression
of countenance which plainly indicated "an ugly customer." Though it was
still early in the day, he had evidently already imbibed a considerable
quantity of alcohol, and his whole demeanour showed clearly enough that
he was not of those who are "pleasant in their liquor." After glancing
superciliously at the documents, as if to intimate he could read them
were he so disposed, he threw them down on the table, and, thrusting his
gigantic paws into his capacious trouser-pockets, remarked slowly and