40 THE entomologist's record. 



Ttut all good things come to an end. About nine o'clock in the 

 evening of Monday, September 16th, my bags were packed and stowed 

 away in the phjeton, about two-score w^ori<men, Armenians, Georgians, 

 and Tartars, assembled to give me a good send-off, and so, as they 

 danced the famous le-jjinka to the wild strains of fiddle and drum, 

 with a hearty good-bye from my kind host and all his household, the 

 driver, a Russian, whipped his little horses, and I settled down to my 

 long drive over the steppe to Evlach. It was a perfect night, not a 

 breath of wind, nor sign of a cloud ; the air so clear that it looked as 

 though the stars could fall down upon us. The road was long and 

 lonely, and my driver entertained me with tales of footpads ; he cheer- 

 fully pointed out the spot where, but a year or two ago, a carriage-full 

 of people had been attacked by a band of robbers in ambush, and lost 

 their lives as well as their goods ; but the assassins were soon 

 captured and shot. His yarns may have been true, but all we met 

 on the road were caravans of huge waggons, drawn by buffalo, with 

 loads of silk bound for Nukha. 



The station at Evlach was crowded with the usual motley 

 assemblage of Caucasians and Tartars, who filled the train to over- 

 ffowing, but not, fortunately, the first class. The journey is 

 comfortable enough, the broad guage, slow speed, and gentle stops do 

 not interfere with sleep, and thanks to the oil-fuel, there is little smoke 

 and dirt, though the dust of the steppe on the east of Tiflis covered the 

 carriages and luggage with a film of fine red sand. After a days' rest 

 in Tiff is for shopping and greeting friends, I took train to Borjom, the 

 estate of the Grand Duke Michael Nicolaievitch. It is the summer 

 residence of the Viceroy of the Caucasus, a pleasant spot, situated on 

 the upper waters of the Kura, in a defile in the thickly wooded 

 mountains. 



Autumn had already begun here, and the dripping trees, and keen 

 moist air were in striking contrast to the burning and oppressive heat 

 of Tifiis. I had little opportunity of collecting, owing partl}'^ to the 

 weather, and partly to the lateness in the year. The usual common 

 things still occurred, as the inevitable Stauroderus hicolor, Charp., 

 Kpaciomia thalassina, Fabr., Ocdipnda caerulesreni^, L., and Tettix 

 hipinictatiis, L. At one spot I could hear the chirp of a Plianeroptera 

 in the trees over my head, but as there was absolutely no undergrowth, 

 and the trees'-'' were high, the creatures were completely inaccessible. 

 More interesting, though perfectly characteristic, were hololampra 

 sriiiiff'eri, L., of which I took one adult female under a stone, while its 

 larvffi were abundant; Tetti.r depreamis, Bris., I'aratetti.v iiieridionalix 

 Serv., and Tridacti/liis rarie(iati(^,Ijatr. Beneath one stone I saw^ an adult 

 Mi/riiiecnphilo ; with eager fingers I seized it, with a handful of leaves 

 and twigs, and flung the lot into my net, in order to pick him out and 

 put him safely into a tube, but the little fellow was so small and so 

 nimble that he escaped through a tiny hole in the net torn by the 



* The trees here were mostly pines, but there were groves of the Kizil. This 

 is a woody shrub, with bright red berries as big as a cherry, but oblong, with a big 

 stone ; they have a pleasant and peculiar flavour, and make good jam. I have 

 not been able to find their English name. In Alexandroff's Dictionary I find 

 ''Kizil — burning-bush, gatten-tree, evergreen-thorn, box-thorn, hound-tree, 

 medlar." The last is the only one of these names that I have ever heard of before. 

 It certainly in no way resembles the medlar as we usually know it. 



