320 CASUALS IN THE CAUCASUS 



resemble in stealthiness the most typical cat of all the 

 Felidae. Even the warning note of the predatory bird 

 has something in common with the peculiar lowing of 

 a hunting leopard, perhaps because both voice the 

 same pitiless intent, the same dread meaning, " We 

 are out for blood ! We are out for blood ! " 



Just as the dawn darkened ere it broke for day a 

 terrific crashing in the undergrowth roused us all, 

 and Ali Ghirik, whose bosky couch was right in the 

 direct way of the intruder, challenged the disturber 

 of our slumbers. No reply. An abrek, of course, two 

 perhaps, or more. 



" These are the villains 

 That all the travellers do fear so much." 



We disentangled ourselves from our " beds," feeling 

 very important and heroic. Excitement lapsed into 

 amusement as a long-eared mule, lost asset of some 

 charcoal-burner, strolled nonchalantly through our 

 midst. Clearly, peace in these woods was not to be had. 



We courted Morpheus again — a most indifferent 

 lover. Ali Ghirik drowsed by the fire, ostensibly on 

 guard, and between him and me a strangely luminous 

 beetle shed a green light through the shadows. Even 

 at a hundred paces he glowed brightly. I know, 

 because I got up and experimented. He was vase- 

 shaped, with unusually long antennae. I immured him 

 in a matchbox, where he shone dully till morning did 

 appear. Then we liberated him, and he celebrated 

 his escape by an acrobatic feat, rare, I should fancy, 

 in his portly genus. Emerging from his prison-house 

 upside down, he did a double somersault into the air 



