402 THE TCHEREK VALLEY. 



After crossing for the first time the eastern Tcherek, at a 

 most striking point, where it flows in a cleft so narrow that 

 a man might almost have leapt across, we rode for half-an- 

 hour through a wood, beautiful enough to demand a special 

 word of admiration, even in this country of woodland 

 scenery. The tall trunks between which the path wound 

 were festooned with long streamers of creeping plants, 

 and the lofty boughs that overarched our heads sheltered 

 beneath them shrubs of rhododendron and azalea, growing 

 to greater size than any we had yet seen. Crags jutted 

 out from the green banks, affording a home for delicate 

 ferns, and moss-cradled springs trickled down shady hollows. 

 In an opening of the wood, we came suddenly on a round 

 tarn fringed with grass, reflecting on its surface the sur- 

 rounding cliflFs and overhanging branches. The spot was 

 so charming that we wanted to camp there, but our horse- 

 men were obstinate, and the leader, with very decisive 

 grunts, which there was no gainsaying, told us that we 

 should find a much better place further on. About half- 

 an-hour later we halted, after a ten hours' ride, under 

 shelter of an overhanging rock, the black streaks on which 

 showed that our camping-ground was not now used as such 

 for the first time. Our tent was quickly pitched, and 

 Paul set about his cookery ; the horsemen unluckily dis- 

 covered he was broiling some ham, and not only shunned 

 him for the rest of the evening, but warned him not to 

 pollute any of their saddles, bridles, or other equipments 

 with his touch. 



August 14th. — The same dull pall of cloud veiled the 

 sky, although it hung higher on the mountain-sides than 

 on the day before. The valley above our camping- ground 

 was completely closed by precipitous cliflfe, which seemed 

 to form a barrier against all further progress. The path — 

 already at some height above the Tcherek, glimpses of 



