i had been tramping almost three weeks when i crossed the snow of mamison. i was therefore full of longing for the comforts of the town and calculated that in three days i should clear the remaining hundred miles and be resting in snug quarters. i was, in fact, full of such thoughts as i reached the village of lisri, but, as leonid andrief says, “man shall never know the next step for which he raises his tender foot.” at lisri i was arrested.

the village is a straggling one, built out of grey stone and put together from the remains of ancient ruins. in the barrenest of pasture land, and having no more than three months’ summer, it is strange that anyone should have chosen to live there. yet there is a large population of ossetines. what they do beyond shooting bears and wild oxen by day and listening to the wolves at night it would be difficult to say. this day, however, there was unusual animation in the place. the priest had summoned all his parishioners and laid before them a proposal to build a new church and enlarge the school. it was a festive occasion, and probably 211more spirits were drunk that was conducive to my safety. in ossetia there is little wine, but all the natives drink araka, a home-brewed spirit suggesting gin in appearance but possessing the odour of stale whisky. it is made from fermented maize.

the man who arrested me was a primed villain. he reported me to the ataman as a spy, and said i pretended to be ignorant of the georgian language, but that he had trapped me into using some words of that tongue. he did not say he had offered to release me for ten shillings, and that he had proposed to discuss the bargain at a lonely point of the road two miles outside the village, and wished to accompany me thither. i had a very likely fear that he would have cut my throat and pushed me over the cliff into the snowy ardon valley. he reminded me forcibly of some words a russian had said to me: “the ossetines have a tariff now—to lay a man out, one rouble; to murder him, three roubles.”

i argued, coaxed, threatened, bluffed, all without avail: my captor was merciless. i must say i mistrusted him dreadfully, and i would not have paid the bribe had i had the money ten times over. i went back to the village and he followed me. i tried to inveigle him into conversation with a group of villagers. i appealed to them and told my story in russian; they favoured me, and told the fellow to let me go. with their moral support i attempted an escape, and i 212should have got clear away, but for the fact that at that moment a party of horsemen were coming down into the village and i was cut off by them. my captor was not angry; his only concern was to get me by myself. my care was to start a big dispute with each newcomer. at length i demanded to be taken to the ataman, and in this i was successful. the man who arrested me wanted me to come home with him, but i outwitted him.

i was brought to the village schoolroom, where the priest was holding his meeting. fifty men seemed to be all shouting at once. the business in hand was interesting; the clergyman had called them together to do work, provide material and offer money for the construction of the new buildings, and also to discuss the plans. a church in an ossetine valley costs little; it is made of stone and pine without windows or seats; the whole village is idle and ready to build a house of god for themselves just as they would build a new cottage. the question of wages is not heard. ruskin himself could not have wished for a more complete absence of the principles of the “dismal science.”

from the moment i entered i saw that the priest would be my friend. i was feeling desperately tired after climbing mamison. i had used all my wits to get clear of the ossetine, and now i fell back in exhaustion. i answered or failed to answer the questions of the inquisitive for hours. the ataman came and questioned 213me lazily; in his heart he cursed his lieutenant for arresting me. he said to the people, in the ossetine language, that if i escaped none was to hinder me. several signalled to me to bolt, for everyone looked very kindly. but my captor hung on; there was no escaping him. he got me alone again, and tried to bully me with words into paying him the ten shillings. this was in the now empty schoolroom. i insisted on marching up and down, for it was cold, and for a quarter of an hour i listened to the man swearing at me.

then the priest sent for me, and i was glad to get into better company. he was still surrounded by a crowd of villagers, but he saved me from my captor, taking me by a side door, and handing me over to his womenfolk to feed. i felt the brotherhood of educated men all over the world as he said to me sotto voce, “i am sorry to see you, a cultured man, in such a plight.” his wife was very kind to me and brought me minced mutton and scones and araka and tea. i felt myself in a quiet haven out of the storm.

my captor made two further attempts to gain possession of me, and even succeeded once, under pretext of taking me to the ataman. but when i found i was being taken to his home i refused to move a step, and seeing the priest in the distance i shouted to him and ran towards him. the upshot of a long dispute was that the priest overruled the fellow and took me to his own house for the night. i returned, and khariton, 214for such was his name, accompanied me. we had a new meal, and my host put off his priestly garments and made merry. he and his wife were a very young couple who were very fond of one another, and played practical jokes of an elementary order, such as pulling one another’s hair—the priest’s hair being almost as long as his wife’s.

of the impressions of a very pleasant, convivial evening, what will chiefly remain in my memory is the discovery by khariton of a small geography book, from which he read in a loud voice all that was said both in large print and in small about england. england had at last become for them an actually existent country. the good man had, however, seen an englishman before. some years ago one came up the valley prospecting for minerals. he could not speak a word of russian, and he sat so funnily on his horse that all the natives laughed.

did i know professor müller—professor of asiatic languages at st petersburg? he was a man to know. he came to lisri some years back, and conversed with the natives in their own language so perfectly that they thought he must be an ossetine.

poor khariton! he did not really know much of education. he confessed to me he was ready to die of shame when he had to speak with an educated russian. but the ossetines had few chances. it would be better later. they had schools and were learning. he was 215teaching the village what he knew, little though that were. they had, moreover, arranged for the improvements—on the morrow all that had been volunteered would be written down.

an ossetine dwelling

i asked him what would happen to me. he thought i should be released. had he been in my place he should have died of fright, he said. but i might be easy in my mind. the ataman had received a circular from the governors, and he did not understand its meaning. he would probably send me to the next village, to the ataman of zaramag. the latter was an educated man and would see that a mistake had been made.

at ten o’clock khariton and his wife spread a bed for me on the floor and i was glad to lie down. so, with slumber closing weary eyes, ended for me this distressing and adventurous day.