TIFLIS AND ITS INHABITANTS yz 



The man left his task to take us down to his storage 

 cellar — a rouble bribed him. Here was a catacomb of 

 weird shapes ! Contorted skins filled to bursting 

 point, lay on shelves, animal wraiths made less fearsome 

 by a rare weave of silver cobwebs. In and out the 

 gossamer cables twisted, and amid the criss-cross of 

 slender strands colossal spiders, striped like wasps, 

 waited patiently for the sugar-loving flies who crept 

 about in sated indolence. 



Our guide, who had lived so long among his Noah's 

 Ark of inflated animals that he had taken on to some 

 extent their grim appearance, swept away the maze of 

 enshrouding gauze that we might see the panorama 

 better, gathering up the silver tissue in henna-stained 

 hands. The cobwebs removed, the charm of the place 

 vanished. It was ugly, bizarre. The light of day was 

 what we wanted, not hideous Has-Beens, filled to 

 repletion with Kakheti wine. 



On the old market-place a great crowd gathered, and 

 from the network of streets people hurried to an 

 impromptu platform, where a group of long-coated 

 figures fought for a foothold. We joined in the rush, 

 pressing alongside a Georgian woman of the people, 

 cocoon-like in an all-enveloping wrapper and a bril- 

 liantly embroidered tiara-cap, from which hung a long 

 white veil, on her dark hair. She was so anxious to be 

 in time, that, Hke the Mad Hatter, she wandered glass 

 of tea in one hand, and a little hard circle of bread, 

 which she called a " bublik," in the other. 



Forcing our way to the edge of the rough dais, we 

 looked up at the fierce frieze of Hebraic faces and 



