ARRIVAL AT THE HUNTING GROUNDS 133 



some men have lived a lifetime in a day, and some have 

 never lived at all. 



We christened our host " The Crocodile," after the 

 famous animal of Mr. Barrie's creating, for just as that 

 fascinating saurian gave warning of its approach by 

 the ticking of a long-ago swallowed clock, so our friend 

 announced his presence by the loud tick-ticking of a 

 good-sized timepiece which he carried somewhere in the 

 folds of his tscherkesska. It was an ordinary " Made 

 in Germany " alarm, and occasionally " went off " in 

 most disconcerting spasms. The wearer, of course, 

 was quite used to it, and smiled loftily as the unpre- 

 pared stander-by jumped in astonishment. 



We decided on resting our animals for a day or two, 

 the while we tried our luck in the corries around. It 

 looked like tur country, probably was tur country. 



Our tents were set up on the plateau, and we over- 

 hauled the rifles, watched by the entire village, who 

 fought each other for front seats. We had great 

 difficulty in clearing them away when we wanted to 

 go to bed ; in fact I don't think they ever did go 

 far off. Argus eyes watched over us all night. 



It was just breaking day when I peeped out of the 

 furry folds of my sleeping-bag, and took stock of the 

 weather through the tent flap. Flitting about like 

 out-sized bats were two predatory goshawks, earliest of 

 birds. The hawk tribe are a- wing long ere the eagles 

 think of waking up. Somewhere on the silence a 

 partridge called dismally. 



Cecily and I drew lots for companions, and like my 

 luck I drew Ali Ghirik, to whom I scarce could pass the 



