Alpena weekly argus. [volume] (Alpena, Mich.) 1871-1893, 1892-08-17
A Storm in the Caucasus.

| iNoN)'
At my elbow, as | sit over my
omeiette and coffee at the hotel de
rEurope at Tifiis, stands a tall,
gaunt, hard featured man in uni
form with a trumpet as long and
narrow as himself,) uttering the
cabalistic words which are to ring
i'll my ears for many a day to come.
| glance through the open window,
and espy, amid an admiring crowd
of every type, from the aquilinc
Georgian to the bun-faced Tartar,
three rough-looking post-horses,
harnessed to u nondescript vehicle,
like butchers cart with II hood
over it, absolutely without seat Of
any kind,-the customary fashion
of carriage-travelling Oh the Asiatic
frontier being to lie, full length, in
the bottom of the conveyance, upon
"a heap of straw.
You're going to travel in grand
style this time," says my friend,
Capt. X, with ajovial grin upon
his broad, horid face; ''but you
mustn't expect this sort of thing on
the Turkoman steppes. When you
get out there, you'll have to carry
your own food and water along with
you, and go forty versts or more
from one well to another, and jolt
along all day on the back of camel,
and sleep on the ground at night
with only rug over you; and if
you ever come back alive, it'll be
something worth talking about.
Good-by. Pleasant journey"
Certainly DR.. Johnson had some
reason on his side when he placed
the acme of enjoyment in being
whirled along by post-chaise.
Flying at full speed over a splendid
military road, with the fresh noun
tain-breeze stirring my blood like
the breath of life, the rich summer
blue of the sky overhead, and the
glorious panorama of the Central
Caucasus oatspread OH every side, as
far as eye can reach, have nothing
else to desire.
And with every hour, the sur
rounding scenery becomes more
magnificent. Smooth sloping hill
sides at first, crested with waving
trees, and dappled with hocks of
goats; then bolder and bleaker
ridges, rising ever higher and steep
er, and darker, with here and there
the skeleton of some ancient Georg-
ian castle.
Night comes on, and my courier
begins to show visible signs of be-
ing played out" and at length
to hint at the propriety of halting
for the night at the station which
we have just reached. But |, mind
full of the risk of missing the one
weekly steamer across the Caspian
sea from Petrovsk to Astran, turn a
deaf ear to his remonstrances, and
order fresh horses forthwith.
However, the force of circum-
stances is against me, after all.
The words are barely uttered when
the gleam of passing lantern
flashes upon a mustached face and
military cap and familiar voice
(that of my friend, Lieut.. Al
shouts through the darkness
us that you, David Stepanovitch |
David, son of Stephen?) ! thought |
else could be mad enough |
to think of going forward with such |
IA sky as that. Just look at it and
see! You had better come in and
have some tea with me, like a sensi-
BILE fellow, instead of going and
killing yourself for nothing"
| look up. and cannot but own
that he is right. The bright South
ern moonlight has vanished in a
huge mass of inky cloud while the
deadly stiffness of the whole at
i. ominous of coming evil.
While am still hesitating, my i'm
patient courier strikes in on the side
of his new ally.
"Ah, David Stephanovitch. cant
you listen to reason? The gentle
mans right; it would be sin to
think of going on in such weather.
Come III quick, before it begins"
| allow myself to be hurried to
the posthouse. and not an instant
too soon. We are barely inside,
when suddenly everything becomes
bright as MONDAY; the quaint little
cross-beamed room, the knives and |
glasses OH the table, the white faces
of the inmates, the picture of the
saint in the farther corner, the dim
waste of mountains outside, are all
terribly distinct for one moment,
and as suddenly blotted out again.
Then comes clap of thunder
that seems to split the very sky, and
instantly the whole fury of the