336 SHORES OF THE CASPIAN. 



common Russian argument, and, if he would not take 

 copecks, give him stick. He took a very fair 

 thumping as stolidly as an ox, and then utterly 

 nonplussed me by quietly handing me the reins, 

 and decamping into the darkness before I had time 

 to think. 



Never in my life did I feel in a more awkward 

 predicament. The roads were deep with snow ; 

 the night dark as pitch ; the way unknown, over 

 a succession of hills down the sides of any of which 

 one false step might at any time hurl us. It would 

 never do to let the rascal go. As quickly as we 

 could Ivan and I dragged our team round and, 

 risking everything, galloped hard in the direction 

 of our runaway into the darkness behind, until, as 

 luck would have it, we nearly ran over him. Hav- 

 ing found him, all manner of bribes were devised, 

 every fearful threat conjured up that our imagina- 

 tions could furnish us with, and by the joint pres- 

 sure of hope of reward and fear of punishment we 

 at last got the sulky brute on to his seat, and at 

 about six in the morning drove into Tiflis. 



True to my resolution, 1 made the cart set me 

 down ut the baths ; large subterranean places, in 

 which, in an extremely hot atmosphere, you may 

 bathe yourself in little baths of natural hot water, 

 strongly impregnated with sulphur, after which a 

 swarthy little Tartar, nearly naked, conies arid, 

 kneeling on your chest, kneads your body with his 



