IN SEARCH OF RUSSIAN BUTTERFLIES. 235 
On mentioning my project to the companion of my Spanish 
expedition of last year, Mr. A. H. Jones, I was very glad to find 
that he was able and willing to come with me once more, and 
we left London on the evening of April 29th, for Odessa, which 
was reached after a most uninteresting journey of seventy-two 
hours, during which, after crossing the Channel to Flushing, we 
did not pass through a single tunnel. 
I wished before the more serious entomological work of the 
journey commenced to see something of the beautiful south 
coast of the Crimea. On the day following our arrival at Odessa 
we therefore got on board the Black Sea steamer, landing the 
following morning at the famous fortress of Sebastopol. 
We spent a couple of days at Sebastopol, which were 
occupied in visiting scenes of the principal events of the siege of 
sixty years ago, not doing any actual collecting, but we saw a 
good number of butterflies, and the district impressed us as 
better ground for Lepidoptera than any we afterwards saw in 
the Crimea. The valley leading from Sebastopol to the English 
Cemetery appeared particularly promising. 
On May 7th we hired a carriage and drove to beautiful Ialta, 
a drive that will always remain vividly impressed upon my 
memory for the loveliness of the scenery en route. Apart from 
the interest of the journey, we were much impressed with the 
manner in which the three little Tartar horses dragged the four- 
wheeled carriage, ourselves, our luggage, and the driver, the 
whole distance of sixty-one miles, without turning a hair, 
galloping uphill and downhill equally as on the level. The 
route is for the first half of the distance inland. Balaclava is 
passed on the way, and then one gradually mounts upwards, 
between woods—full of wild ponies at the time of our visit— 
until a col named the ‘‘ Porte de Baidar”’ is surmounted, then 
all at once the beautiful south coast bursts into view from a 
height of almost 2000 ft. The day was perfect, and the sea 
almost as blue as the Mediterranean can be; the view itself is 
superb, and the conditions we saw it under were the best 
possible. Beyond Baidar the road is entirely alongside the sea, 
which is never lost sight of, and vistas of surpassing loveliness 
continually burst into view. Just before Ialta is reached, the 
Imperial Palace and Park of Livadia are passed. The Czar was 
in residence, and the road, and in fact the whole district, was 
patrolled by picked Cossacks, magnificently mounted and armed. 
It was an impressive scene ! 
Ialta is in situation and surroundings very similar to 
Mentone, but it is even more beautiful. The vegetation is, how- 
ever, not so southern; one sees plenty of cypress trees and 
occasional palms, and in the main street I saw several fine 
specimens of Jacaranda mimosaefolia, which just then were a 
gorgeous mass of purple tubular flowers ; but with few exceptions 
Diner 
