THE LAND OF PROMETHEUS
There are thousands of people (Englishmen especially, and Germans
universally) who would find terrible fault with me--if they ever heard
of it--for the absence of calmness and self-command, which I ought to
have helped, but couldn't. Taking myself, as it ought to be, and always
is in theory, I must have gone out of it, without asking leave, or even
knowing that it took leave of me. Others, who have been in the like
condition, and perhaps they may be counted by the million, will freely
allow for all I did, and all I said--which was a great deal worse. Even
Strogue, though acquainted with many languages, and tolerant of all
their excesses, admitted at last that there must be a power in our own,
beyond all foreign scope.
"You never use a wicked word," he said to me; "or at any rate none that
could be scored against you, by any angel that understands our tongue;
and yet you contrive to put things in such a way, that I would rather
not stand by you in a thunderstorm."
That of course was rubbish; for I spoke most mildly, and if ever I used
a strong expression, the sound of my own voice hurt me. I was trying,
throughout the long trial, to be of the large mind, which I admired so
much whenever to be found for certain, in any human beings within my
knowledge; and these being unsatisfactorily scarce, I went back to the
many I had read of, in my early days at Winchester, and did my utmost to
believe in them, and shape myself accordingly.
But this was of very little help to me. Epaminondas, Timoleon, even the
grand Aristides, and the Roman who sacrificed his own son, were nothing
but shadows on a cloud, while I was the shivering form inside it.
Strogue himself was limp and grim, and could not see how to get out; and
it was not in his mouth to talk of angels, unless it was to give them
more to do. He might say what he liked, but he tried my temper, a great
deal more than I trespassed upon his. Moreover he had made a very
serious mistake, and one which would probably prove fatal. If we had
only gone straight to Odessa, instead of losing time at Constantinople,
we might have been at Kutais a week ago, supposing we had caught the
proper steamer. This he could not for a moment deny; and all he could
say was, that as I knew so much more about it than he did, although I
had scarcely heard of this part of the world before, the best thing
would be for me to command the expedition, and conduct it entirely in
the English language. But I pointed out to him that my remarks must not
be distorted in that manner, and that all of them were intended as
compliments, though he had not for the moment perceived it. Upon this he
came out of his anger, and said that every allowance must be made for
me, and that if he were fool enough to be in love he should have carried
on worse than I did.
At the same time he announced, when at length and at last we had got our
_podoroshno_--or something like that, which cost a lot of money at
Poti--that from what he was told about the condition of the passes, his
plan of the route must be abandoned, and we must go first to Tiflis,
though far to the south of our proper course. There we should get into
the great Russian road, which cuts the main link of the mountain-chain,
and find a course open in almost any weather, and vehicles of some sort
to be had for hire. Moreover it was not at all unlikely that our
Lesghian travellers might be there, waiting for the spring to tempt them
home.
For people in haste and having baggage, any railway (however vile and
utterly profane, both in itself and all its consequences) is better than
the best carriage-road, or horse-track, likely to be found in the same
direction or anywhere near it. So we took to the new line (the wonder of
the age, to all Oriental intellects, and made as nature requires by
Englishmen), and instead of leaving it, as Strogue had first intended,
at Kutais, or further on, we followed its rugged course throughout to
the "City of languages," as the world calls Tiflis.
Until the weather becomes too hot this is the usual residence of the
Commander-in-Chief of the Caucasus, and Strogue suggested that we should
call upon him, so as to start well with the authorities, in case of any
violence being done or suffered by us among fierce tribesmen, who might
not look at things as we did. For what could two men, even though of
English birth, avail among so many? Strogue himself spoke Russian very
fairly; and even I could make out a little by this time, after taking
much trouble, and undergoing a crick in the hinges of both jaws, for in
certain conditions of the human mind nothing seems too arduous.
His Highness Prince L. received us most politely, and at the Captain's
request allowed us the privilege of a separate audience; for if it
should once get wind among the tribes of the upper Terek that we were
coming to meddle with their affairs, they were likely to show us nothing
more than loop-holes studded with rifle-muzzles. The Prince, who was a
very fine and handsome man, listened attentively to Strogue's account,
and then (after telling us that he feared Sûr Imar was already in the
net and beyond our reach) he took a course which puzzled us altogether,
and made us look rather foolish.
"Gentlemen," he said with a pleasant smile, "observe that I do not
question the accuracy of your account. In fact I believe every syllable
of it, and it confirms my own opinions. But unless you have brought me
attested depositions, or are prepared to make them from your own
knowledge, and recent presence on the spot, I have no power to do
anything. Have you any such evidence to lay before me?"
Strogue shook his head, and I was compelled to do the same. "We did not
intend to apply to your Highness," I said in the best form I could
muster; "that was only thought of afterwards, lest we should do anything
against the law."
"It is fortunate for you that you have applied," he answered not
unkindly. "You are doing nothing against our law by entering the country
with our passports; but you are defying tribal laws, and outraging all
their customs, by interfering with the private affairs of their ruling
family. Have you at all considered what the result of that is? Captain
Stronger, you have travelled on those mountains. Did you find
encouragement to treat the people thus?"
"Your Highness, the conclusion I arrived at was--the further I keep away
from all of them, the better."
"It was wise. It shows your great abilities. The same conclusion is
mine; and I regret that we have been obliged to embody them. But if we
had not done so, it is certain that you would. But for years we must
deal very carefully with them. All we endeavour is to keep some sort of
order, and encourage them to try to live without much thieving. Work
they will not, even for the four months, which is all the time many of
them could work, if they tried. Gentlemen, your sympathies are wasted in
such quarters."
"Your Highness, I should like to shoot them all; and probably in your
position we should have done it." Strogue had not travelled for nothing,
and he held up his thumb for me not to contradict him. "You are the
great civilizing power, as England begins at last to acknowledge. We did
not come here with the audacity to think that your Highness would help
us in a private matter which does not concern your authority. But we
know that this Lesghian chief, although he was compelled to side with
Shamyl in his boyhood, and has paid the just penalty by long exile, is
now the warmest friend of your great Empire. The object for which he has
returned is this, to bring the barbarians into peaceful ways, and make
them good Russian subjects, able, and at the same time glad, to pay good
taxes. This gentleman with me, of the highest English family, is an
intimate friend of Sûr Imar, and he will confirm every word I have said.
Speak up, Sir George, and tell his Highness what you know."
"How many times more am I to be Sir George?" I muttered to myself in
English. And then as the Prince's eyes fell upon me, I said very
bravely, "It is so, your Highness." For everything was true, except
perhaps about the taxes.
"And will the Commander-in-Chief allow," cried Strogue, getting stronger
in his eloquence, "a faithful and fervent Russian subject to be murdered
by barbarous Ossets, the most cantankerous and anti-Russian tribe
remaining in the Caucasus?"
The Captain made a true hit here. The gorgeous decorations rose on the
ample bosom of the Prince, and his strong eyes flashed, as if in battle.
But a Russian of high rank keeps his head, and he answered rather
formally.
"As I said before, I cannot interfere. But in case of any savage tumult,
I will give you a letter to the officer on duty in the Kazbek district,
which you will not present unless needful. And now, gentlemen, I wish
you well. You must bear in mind that you go with your lives in your
hands, and we are not responsible. There is a little band of your
countrymen on the northern side of Kazbek, who hold our permission to
quest for minerals. Two of them were frozen to death last winter,
through their own imprudence. But that has not prevented more from
coming, in the manner of your country. You may find them of service to
you in the matter of supplies. Farewell."
We took our leave with many thanks, not daring to put any further
questions, although we concluded that he knew more than he saw fit to
tell us. An officer brought us the promised letter, and looked at us
very curiously, as if we were even more insane than the English race in
general. I wanted Strogue to question him; but he said that it would be
a breach of etiquette, and might set the Commander against us. So we
made our bows, and went back to our inn, which was one of the queerest
places ever seen.
And this reminds me that I may have been expected to say something about
the many noble and wonderful sights of our long and tedious journey. But
the plain truth is, that they passed me by, without leaving any clear
impression, or even creating the interest which at any other time must
have swallowed me. I looked upon the grandest scenery of the world,
without even thinking of its grandeur, caring for nothing but to leave
it behind, as another obstacle gone by. Scarcely would I even lift my
eyes to the majesty of giant Tau, or peak that towered in dazzling white
(like the hand of God spread on the heavens), or the sombre awe of
mountain forest, deep with impenetrable gloom. Yet in after times all
these came gliding along the slides of memory, and now and then they
stand and hold me, when I want to think of something else.
But what we had to think of now was to get along the roadless roads from
Tiflis into the black abysses and white steeps of the mountain range.
Many of the passes still were blocked, although the strong sun scorched
our skin, and the road was swamp or flood, whenever it was not crag or
boulder. Strogue, being accustomed to such doings, took them with grim
philosophy; and I cared little what they were, except for the delay they
caused. The Prince most kindly sent a couple of Cossacks for our escort,
and we had four men with their hired ponies, as well as an interpreter,
for Strogue might often be at fault even with the Lesghian tongue, and
we might visit places where that and Russian were of small avail.
So bad was the season, and the ways so roundabout and rugged, that not
until the 3d of May did we enter the deep defile which leads to the foot
of the crag of Karthlos. We threaded the narrow pass, and looked up at
the fearful heights, from which those playful children fell, when
frisking on their little legs among the treacherous snow-drift. And then
we saw the rocky elbow of the dark ravine where Imar's father Dadian
fell to the stealthy shot of Rakhan. The lonely gorge, where a man felt
half afraid to provoke an echo, seemed to be formed by nature for the
darkest deeds her sons can do. While the pale slant of declining
sunshine, webbed with quivering vapour, here and there came partway down
the walls of rent and jagged rock, but nowhere reached the bottom. There
was not a sound to make us think of life in this unfathomable grave;
even the Cossacks shuddered mutely under the gloomy chill of awe.
"Thank God!" cried Strogue, when one of our horses, less romantic than
the rest, or lulled by power of contrast into a dream of clover, set up
a lively neigh, which rang like a peal of bells along the chasm; "my
son, thou shalt taste oats for that. This old hole never used to
frighten me. The 'London Rock' must have spoiled my nerves for rocks
that have got no chimneys. Here we are, George; let me see if I can
blow. I used to know how. Or you try, if you like. You are more of a
huntsman."
We had stopped at a place where a steep, narrow channel cut the north
wall of the gorge at right angles, and a battered old horn of great size
hung from a staple at the rocky corner. I made a sign to him to blow,
and blow he did, to such effect that the tattered grass, hanging here
and there on either side of the chasm, shook as a matted cobweb shakes
when a stag-beetle tumbles into it. In the midst of the solemn
desolation, and my own profound anxiety, I could not help laughing at
the Captain's face, as his great cheeks puffed with the rush from the
lungs, and his fat chin went into plough-lines, and his grizzled
eyebrows into gables over his wet projecting eyes.
"Laugh at me?" he said; "then do it better." But I could not do it half
as well; and we all looked vainly up the steep ascent, whose winding hid
the house from us--no one came, neither any answer, nor sign that we had
moved the air. Suddenly it occurred to me, how poor Sûr Imar had stood
where we were standing, and blown that very same horn in vain, with the
flush of bright hope, and the glow of home, on the day that broke his
life in twain. Some men are content to accept the tricks of others and
of fortune; not from their own want of power, but because of their
contempt of it.
Strogue, who was not by any means of this too lofty order, glared and
stamped, and shook his fist at all the void magnificence from which he
could get no response. "Up we go," he said at last, "if the mountain
won't come down to us--but keep your revolver ready."
One of the Cossacks came with us, according to his orders; the other
stayed with the horses and their owners in the trackway. The ascent was
easy enough for any one not encumbered with four legs, though the rope
that skirted the worst places was cut away, or worn out by time. And
then we mounted some big steps, with a slush of snow upon them, and
struck a heavy ring of brass upon a great gate of some dark wood. The
mansion, or tower, or whatever it should be called, rose large and lofty
before us, gazing with a dull and ancient aspect down a wilderness of
craggy clefts. For about a third part of the year the scene must be all
majesty, and for the rest all melancholy, even with life inside it. But
now it appeared as if it did not care for any outlook; winter or summer,
good or bad, could not matter much to it.
"Nobody at home. They don't keep bailiffs in this part of the world,"
said Strogue, "or I should think some of those lovely fellows were
having their steak in the kitchen. Down, George, down behind the
parapet, or you'll never wear a hat again!"
Like an accomplished traveller, the Captain ducked his head out of shot.
But I was too slow and stupid, and had caught the despondency of the
place. "Fire away," I said, "if you can strike a light; I don't believe
that you can hit me."
Want of faith is infectious, and the silver mop behind the rail, on
which was resting a long brown barrel, arose very slowly, and behold, it
was the uncovered head of a very ancient man! Long white hair flowed
down his shoulders and over his breast, and I heard a hollow sigh. "Blow
me, if it isn't old Kobaduk!" cried Strogue, who was taking a cautious
peep; "don't be in a funk, George; he knows me. Hold hard, old fellow,
and keep your powder dry."
The old gentleman seemed to be in doubt about his eyes, till the Captain
went down a flight of steps and round towards the kitchen-entrance where
the ancient watchman stood. Then a few words of Lesghian passed, and
Kobaduk leaned his gun against the rail, and flung his wrinkled arms
round the thick form of Strogue.
"Is he coming? Will he never come again?" That much I could make out
among his many trembling words. "Is old Kobaduk to die without seeing
him? without ever hearing his voice again?"
Then he tottered to the corner of the steps, and spread his hand over
his brows, where the sunset struck through the glare of snow, and he
leaned on the ramrod which he had picked up, and gazed, with his
wrinkled eyes casting forth a bushy sparkle, down the lonely passage
from the road below. "Take it easy, old chap," shouted Strogue; and he
answered, "I am too old to take it easy."
Thereupon his long beard fell lower on his breast, and his lips, which
were far out of sight behind it, mumbled some sadness which we could not
understand, and he shuffled his feet to be sure that they were there,
and made off for the kitchen-door, without another sign to us.
"Hospitable I call that," said Strogue; "the poor old beggar doesn't
know what he is about. But we must put up here, willy, nilly, for the
night. We will make him rout up a bit of grub, and stir the dregs of his
ancient brain."