TO THE HUNTING GROUNDS 107 



ten years. They are erected, and then abandoned to 

 the elements and to the fowls of the air. The Georgians 

 are advised that, whatever the nature of their trans- 

 gressions, they ensure remission by building a small 

 church. " For my own part," adds the inimitably 

 quaint chronicler, " I believe that they erect them in 

 such inaccessible places to avoid the expense of en- 

 dowing and decorating them." 



The present-day appearance of most of the ruined 

 fastnesses of the country would lead the average 

 non-antiquarian to imagine that the deterioration of 

 the structures was far advanced when our British 

 strongholds were just about at the foundation-stone 

 era. As a matter of fact, many of the Caucasian 

 examples were in active use not so very long ago, 

 armed to the teeth, or rather to the battlements, 

 within the space of two hundred years. 



Every ruin of warlike pretensions is ascribed to the 

 celebrated brigand Kir Oglu, just as every sanctuary 

 belongs to Queen Thamara. Kir Oglu was a semi- 

 mythical personage, a cross between Robin Hood, Dick 

 Turpin, and Raisuli, who moved about the land in free- 

 and-easy fashion, stabling his horses in every church. 

 He was the greatest of all great highwaymen, and was 

 only routed by the sight of a pistol stuck in the belt of 

 an Italian prisoner. On being told what the weapon was 

 — this happened soon after its invention — and shown 

 its powers, the robber chief went out of the bandit 

 business, saying that he could plainly see his occupa- 

 tion was gone. 



Ruined and wild and roofless, our castle tottered to 



