12 SAVAGE SVANETIA. 



In our absence the old man of the house had 

 got a shake-down of hay ready, and Platon 

 had bought a young pig, the sheep of the 

 village being exorbitantly dear. 



It seemed a long time to dinner still, so 

 Frank lay down on the hay and tried to sleep 

 away evil hours of waiting, and I was about 

 to follow his example when an apparition in a 

 gaudy red shirt came to see us. This was 

 Georgi, to whom we had irreverently given 

 the name of Irving, when we first met him 

 on the way to Mookmer. He, it seemed, had 

 been christened originally by our interpreter's 

 father, who was a priest of Radcha, and for 

 that reason was anxious to entertam us and 

 show us his house. Frank wouldn't come, 

 but as I could not sleep, Platon and I fol- 

 lowed our friend to his house. 



On the edge of a little precipice of perhaps 

 one hundred feet, looking down on the Ingour, 

 was a threshmg floor, surrounded by the usual 



