356 THE RAINS. 



recently raged, and no game could be obtained for 

 the larder, so that we were almost without provi- 

 sions. 



Taking all these things into consideration, we 

 determined next morning to go straight on to 

 Duapse, and give up any further hope of shooting. 

 Thus resolving, we built up a fire of drift-wood 

 under the old flooring, and lying round it dreamed 

 of home, dry clothes, and good dinners. Alas ! that 

 good resolutions should always be formed too late. 

 When morning came, like a nightmare came upon 

 us that creaking and groaning of the trees we had 

 learned to know so well ; that rush and babble of 

 waters that meant imprisonment for a starved-out 

 garrison. The tiny rill below the ruin, which the 

 day before had been nowhere ankle-deep, was now 

 boiling and foaming with a rage perfectly ludicrous 

 in such a baby river, and with a force that made it 

 almost unfordable. Not a moment was to be lost, 

 and in spite of the pitiless storm we determined to 

 push on foot along the shore to the next Cossack 

 station for horses before we were hopelessly 

 hemmed in by the mountain-streams. 



It was already doubtful if we were not too late ; 

 so leaving Ivan the Pole at the ruin to guard our 

 effects, my young friend L., Ivan Kotoflf, and 

 myself, shouldered our small kits and trudged away 

 breakfastless over the wet shingle. It was heavy 

 going over the yielding beach, laden as we were 



