OVER THE GREAT CHAIN 229 



what masquerades in the Caucasus for readiness — at 

 the various post-stations. 



The Pass was ever a well-known one to the 

 Muscovite, and in the days of Peter the Great 

 the armies of Russia set their faces to the land 

 beyond. Wild men of the mountains, holding their 

 fierce defiles, contested every forward step, the im- 

 peding glacier-fed torrents, the brooding avalanche, 

 engulfments of all kinds claimed full toll, and the 

 profound cleft in the heart of the Titanic barrier is a 

 sepulchre of a mighty human host. The wraiths of 

 fallen hundreds line the way from end to end. 



In the earliest years of Russian occupation a system 

 of block-houses and patrols paved the way, to some 

 extent, for travellers, but the activity of the uncon- 

 quered tribesmen made a safe journey an impossible 

 thing. Eight miles a day was considered good going, 

 and that with a protective convoy numbering hundreds. 

 This condition of affairs held apparently up to 1829, 

 for we have the chronicle of Pushkin, who vividly 

 described the difficulties and dangers of a trip through 

 the Caucasus at that period. 



From the crest of the Pass to Kobi the wide track 

 wound through cavernous tunnels, whose echoes in 

 clanging tongues beat to the rhythm of our horses, 

 flying hoofs, then through wildernesses of oddly- 

 shapen rocks curving above the road, and out again to 

 the shadow of snow-crowned pinnacles. 



Beyond Kobi the scene merged into still wilder 

 beauties. To the east the peaks of the great chain 

 rose tier on tier to the sky ; Kasbek and his brothers 



