326 SHORES OF THE CASPIAN. 



And so the vigil ends. The great beast was 

 our friend M. The night had worn to morning, 

 and, slowly unbending my stiffened limbs, I let 

 myself down to terra fir ma, glad that the watch 

 was over, even though it ended in nothing better 

 than a nip of eau-de-vie. 



Once more after this I watched the stars 

 brighten and fade in the cold grey of morning, 

 waiting alone for a tiger which never came ; 

 then, fearful lest the wet season should set in, 

 and prevent our return to Tiflis, I bade adieu to 

 my friends, and on January 11 we started on the 

 return journey to Tiflis. 



As soon as our cart came round the sky grew 

 gradually blacker, and with the first jingle of the 

 horses' bells the patter of the first instalment of 

 the rainy season was mingled. From the time we 

 turned our faces to Tiflis until the moment when 

 Ivan left me in the baths of that city, waiting till 

 he should bring clean clothes in which to attire 

 me for my reappearance in a partially civilised 

 world, the weather went steadily from bad to worse, 

 and discomfort grew to actual misery. 



1 will not weary my readers with more than 

 a few glimpses of the return journey, of which the 

 first shall be the suburbs of Lenkoran. As we 

 approached them the road became so bad that our 

 horses could barely proceed at a walk ; and, looking 

 ahead, we found the street a morass, bridged with 



