134 CASUALS IN THE CAUCASUS 



time of day. All the village saw us start, and " The 

 Crocodile " accompanied us for a little way, riding 

 the best animal I had seen in the country. A mag- 

 nificent black, which climbed rocks like a cat. Soon 

 our escort left us, choked off by the hard going. 



We trudged through a valley a thousand feet deep, 

 with fierce stony hills rising to the sky on either side, 

 following the course of a torrent which raced furiously 

 through the titanic ravine. A slippery grass path, 

 which might have been grown for us, so soft was it to 

 our feet, led on to slopes carpeted by Alpine flora, 

 daisies, and large metallic buttercups, out-sized dande- 

 lions too, and gentians of every shade. Above gleamed 

 snowfields, with melting edges streaking down to find 

 the great river below. No signs of habitation — this 

 was the deep, still, strong wilderness itself. 



Few solitudes of the world impart such an infinite 

 sense of peace as indefinably comes to one in the heart 

 of mountain valleys, columned by mighty peaks 

 gleaming through an orient vale of clouds. There is 

 such an indescribable sense of space in the limitless 

 vastness, such amplitude for immortal faiths and 

 fancies, beauties and beliefs. Almost I think the best 

 of these things are bred in the wild gardens of the 

 earth, and the silences and the shadows nurture them. 



A big snowy owl sat poised on a rock close to us, 

 busily trying to bolt whole a little tailed animal of the 

 weasel tribe. Over and again the bird tried conclusions 

 with his breakfast, until, growing fearful, he flew off in 

 swooping circles, prey half swallowed, and a long tail 

 swinging from his beak. When I was able to question 



