THE RAINS. 357 



with bourkas and what Dot in that blinding rain, 

 and I was thankful when I saw my friend L. 

 safely at the end of it. Young as he was, I am 

 bound to say he made less trouble of it than our 

 burly Russian fisherman, whose red beard kept 

 wagging the whole time, and whose complaints 

 were the harshest sound even in that stormy scene. 



At Selenik's Datch we found the stream that 

 there empties itself into the sea swollen beyond re- 

 cognition, and divided into two, forming two small 

 cataracts, which hurtled along the big boulders in 

 a way that was a marvel to those who had only 

 seen it in its days of restful calm. Kotoflf at once 

 pronounced it unfordable, and, being our guide, the 

 others unluckily would not listen to my arguments, 

 though at considerable risk I backed them by fording 

 the first stream, which was more than waist deep, 

 by myself. Naturally, though I was several times 

 all but washed off my feet, and to lose my footing 

 would in all probability have been to lose my life, 

 it would have been simple enough to have crossed 

 had we all linked ourselves one with the other, 

 and together breasted the torrent. But the Rus- 

 sians were white-livered, and would not come, so 

 that I had to wade back again ; and wet through, 

 disgusted and hungry, with my throat as I knew in 

 a dangerous state, I felt very like throwing up the 

 sponge. 



After a weary tramp through the long wet 



