132 CASUALS IN THE CAUCASUS 



round keel of weighty horns. . . , Was ever such a 

 pair of horns ? . . . 



" A fine head," interrupts the Uninitiated, breaking 

 the weft. " What did you say you call it ? " 



And of such was our Yuzbashi. The stalking of ibex 

 did not attract, or draw, or hold him. He knew 

 nothing of its magnetism, its more than magnetism. 

 Magnets lose their power, and I can't imagine the 

 pursuit of ibex ever doing that. It is the North Point of 

 Sport. 



His knowing nothing of the game conditions didn't 

 argue that there were no ibex in the region, for our 

 new acquaintance was the most illiterate specimen of 

 humanity we met in Daghestan. The wilderness has 

 a way of making scholars of us all ; the Great Teacher 

 is insistent there. But here, to one of its own children, 

 the Mysterious Tongue had spoken in vain, and the 

 subtle atmosphere had evoked nothing but an ignorance 

 deep as death. 



Silent and uncommunicative the iron races of the 

 mountains must appear to " the gentler genius of the 

 plain," but this Yuzbashi was not of the usual quiet 

 knowledgeable variety. He did not even know who 

 made him head of his hundred, and was in a haze of 

 doubt as to which of the world's monarchs he owed 

 fealty to. I couldn't guess his age. How can one 

 solve the mystery of the years which have shaven 

 instead of whitened a head, or guess the colour a dyed 

 beard would turn if introduced to soap and water ? Ali 

 Ghirik said the ignoramus was about seventy, but it is 

 a stupid custom this c'ounting the age by years, for 



