roots and bushes, that led not straight, but persistently toward an
up-towering crag like an eye-tooth. Below it was thick forest, shaped
like a shovel beard, and the crag stuck above the beard like an old
man's last tooth.

But mountains have a discouraging way of folding and refolding so
that the air-line from point to point bears no relation to the length
of the trail. The last kites were drooping lazily toward their perches
for the night when we drew near the edge of the forest at last, and
were suddenly brought to a halt by a challenge from overhead. We
could see nobody. Only a hoarse voice warned us that it was death
to advance another yard, and our tired animals needed no persuasion
to stand still.

There, under a protruding lock as it were of the beard, we waited
in shadow while an invisible somebody, whose rifle scraped rather
noisily against a branch, eyed every inch of us at his leisure.

"Who are you?" he demanded at last in Armenian, and one of our three
men enlightened him in long-drawn detail.

The explanation did not satisfy. We were told to remain exactly
where we were until somebody else was fetched. After twenty minutes,
when it was already pitch-dark, we heard the breaking of twigs, and
low voices as three or four men descended together among the trees.
Then we were examined again from close quarters in the dark, and
there are few less agreeable sensations. The goose-flesh rises and
the clammy cold sweat takes all the comfort out of waning courage.

But somebody among the shadowy tree-trunks at last seemed to think