SPORT OF SORTS WITH THE PRINCE 285 



Drives of this sort in which slaughter of numbers 

 was the main object apparently, as opposed to seeking 

 out the finest head and bagging it, could not interest 

 anyone actuated by even the most meagre of sporting 

 principles. I wanted to sample it, as I like to sample 

 all things, but — nothing happened. 



I shouldn't have stayed where I was so long had I 

 been certain of the exact location selected by the Prince 

 for his holding. Indiscriminate changes of stations 

 when he had a rifle in his hand, and imagined game 

 was afoot, were fraught with danger. In fact, going 

 out with him was quite the most " nervy " thing we 

 tackled in the Caucasus. He shot on the prehistoric 

 system of " Each man for himself and the devil take the 

 hindermost " — a very uncomfortable state of affairs for 

 the hindermost. Ali told us that three game-wardens 

 had fallen by the way already, so Keebeet's job was no 

 sinecure. 



Where the Prince really excelled himself in an airy 

 disregard for consequences was snap-shooting in the 

 woods, at 'cock, perhaps, in the late evening, as they 

 came out into the open down the rides of the forest. 



After this absurd waste of time we did some days' 

 stalking on lines of our own, and came off with a couple 

 of really good specimens of Capra Pallasi apiece, and 

 a chamois, followed by some splendid sport in the 

 westward marshes. Wonderful days with snipe, 

 mostly jack, blank days when we saw dozens and 

 hardly got a shot, other days when we bagged as 

 many as thirty-six and a half couple between three of 

 us, bewildering days, sandwiched in between, when, 



