the graver episodes which may occur, I
shall make here a quotation from my note-book:

Early in the morning we arrived at Maikop, a small town commanding the
entrance to one of the valleys which run up towards the main range
of the Caucasus. On alighting at the post-station, we at once ordered
horses for the next stage, and received the laconic reply, "There are no
horses."

"And when will there be some?"

"To-morrow!"

This last reply we took for a piece of playful exaggeration, and
demanded the book in which, according to law, the departure of horses
is duly inscribed, and from which it is easy to calculate when the first
team should be ready to start. A short calculation proved that we
ought to get horses by four o'clock in the afternoon, so we showed the
station-keeper various documents signed by the Minister of the
Interior and other influential personages, and advised him to avoid all
contravention of the postal regulations.

These documents, which proved that we enjoyed the special protection
of the authorities, had generally been of great service to us in our
dealings with rascally station-keepers; but this station-keeper was not
one of the ordinary type. He was a Cossack, of herculean proportions,
with a bullet-shaped head, short-cropped bristly hair, shaggy eyebrows,
an enormous pendent moustache, a defiant air, and a peculiar expression
of countenance which plainly indicated "an ugly customer." Though it was
still early in the day, he had evidently already imbibed a considerable
quantity of alcohol, and his whole demeanour showed clearly enough that
he was not of those who are "pleasant in their liquor." After glancing
superciliously at the documents, as if to intimate he could read them
were he so disposed, he threw them down on the table, and, thrusting his
gigantic paws into his capacious trouser-pockets, remarked slowly and
decisively, in something deeper than a double-bass voice, "You'll have
horses to-morrow morning."

Wishing to avoid a quarrel we tried to hire horses in the village, and
when our efforts in that direction proved fruitless, we applied to the
head of the rural police. He came and used all his influence with the
refractory station-keeper, but in vain. Hercules was not in a mood to
listen to officials any more than to ordinary mortals. At last, after
considerable trouble to himself, our friend of the police contrived to
find horses for us, and we contented ourselves with entering a