328 SHORES OF THE CASPIAN. 



the post-cart was hired by me, paid for by me, and 

 intended only to be tenanted by me and mine, the 

 intruder just deigned to tell me that he was a 

 ' tchapar,' had a right to travel in any cart he chose, 

 and meant to travel in mine, whether I liked it or 

 not. Now, if this were true, it would not be an 

 additional attraction in Russian post-travelling; 

 but I fancy it was not : so I requested my would-be 

 fellow-traveller to make himself scarce at once, 

 and as he persisted in refusing, I hoisted him into the 

 mud by the wheels. As soon as he recovered an 

 upright position he clapped his old flint-lock rifle 

 to his shoulder, and putting the muzzle almost into 

 my face, deliberately pulled the trigger. Luckily 

 for me, in his fall all the powder which should 

 have formed the train to the charge had been spilt. 

 Moreover, his barrel was choked with good hold- 

 ing clay, so that, taken all together, had the piece 

 not missed fire, the danger would have been greater 

 to him than to me. After this display of rage and 

 impotence, he turned to the people of the station, 

 and so worked upon them by his arguments that, 

 had I not taken the reins out of my yemstchik's 

 hands and driven off, whether they would or not, 

 I am persuaded I should have been detained perhaps 

 for days at Adji Kabool, until I could communi- 

 cate with Tiflis or Lenkoran. 



To travel by post-road in this part of the Cau- 

 casus, and indeed all over Russia I believe, a man 



