rock waiting for us, so easily could he outpace the representatives of the Alps! Breathlessly we raced up the short ascent to the grassy oasis where stood our camp, and at that very moment a waterspout swept down on us.
In the Alps a wetting is not of much account, but in the Caucasus it is extremely inconvenient, at all events in settled bad weather. The only means of drying clothes is to hang them on the tent ropes, or spread them on warm rocks, methods which are not applicable during the continuance of rain.
We congratulated ourselves loudly over our most opportune return, and then proceeded to overhaul the stores of provisions. It became obvious that a journey to our supplies at Tubeneli in quest of biscuits, chocolate, tea, and soups was essential. The Tartar expressed a cheery readiness to start at once, and we saw him disappear in the deluge. Meanwhile, the shepherd from the pastures opposite rubbed his dagger on a hone, which the careful Zurfluh had brought from Switzerland, as a desirable preliminary to lamb cutlets. The luckless victim, the destined banquet, was still browsing on the luxuriant grass, regardless alike of torrential rain and swiftly-striding doom.
During the afternoon a serious defect in our Whymper tent made itself apparent. At each end, in this make of tent, there is a small hole in the
