176 CASUALS IN THE CAUCASUS 



were unknown. One or two of the men used sharp 

 knives, which fitted into the back of the kinjal sheath, 

 but most tore the meat very tidily with their fingers. 

 The boiled millet seed, pounded, in which they simply 

 revelled, they rolled into balls to be swallowed whole, 

 and the water used for cooking they drank as a sort of 

 soup. 



Hitherto, we had regarded All's muzzle-loader as a 

 beautiful relic merely. After the tur slaughter he 

 offered to lend the weapon to us. He loaded up, and 

 after fixing a sort of rest to the stock, said the per- 

 formance could begin. Cecily had been aiming for 

 some seconds at a big rock, and was waiting and 

 waiting, but nothing happened. The powder fizzed in 

 the pan, and — that was all. Striding up to his treasure 

 Ali administered a sound slap on its barrel, just as 

 though he had a naughty child to deal with, and on 

 the instant the refractory implement belched forth in a 

 little gulping puff of expostulation. 



" You've not hit the rock ! " said Ali sternly. " My 

 rifle always hits the rock." 



To our astonishment, and I'm sure to our servant's, 

 although he dissembled very well, the blessed thing let 

 fly again ! Cecily said she didn't pretend to understand 

 machine guns, and preferred something that went off 

 and was done with it. " Now you don't know where 

 you have this rifle of yours, Ali." 



" These mad Franks ! " his angry eyes exclaimed. 

 Had she not seen his beloved^weapon "always across 

 his back ? 



Only a suicidal tur, surely, would wait for Ali Ghirik. 



