"Mount Gut."

"Well, what then?"

"Don't you see how it is smoking?"

True enough, smoke was rising from Mount
Gut. Over its sides gentle cloud-currents were
creeping, and on the summit rested one cloud of
such dense blackness that it appeared like a blot
upon the dark sky.

By this time we were able to make out the Post
Station and the roofs of the huts surrounding it;
the welcoming lights were twinkling before us,
when suddenly a damp and chilly wind arose, the
gorge rumbled, and a drizzling rain fell. I had
scarcely time to throw my felt cloak round me
when down came the snow. I looked at the
staff-captain with profound respect.

"We shall have to pass the night here," he
said, vexation in his tone. "There's no crossing
the mountains in such a blizzard. -- I say, have
there been any avalanches on Mount Krestov?"
he inquired of the driver.

"No, sir," the Ossete answered; "but there
are a great many threatening to fall -- a great