CONCLUSION 331 



and carry nothing valuable save your weapons — 

 powerful commanders of respect — you may go to the 

 back of beyond in all confidence. Anyone who travels 

 round with the " God help me " air of the average 

 Cook's tourist is bound to be held up sooner or later. 



Such people are held up daily even in police- 

 patrolled Soho. 



And so — go to the Caucasus, but don't go if you 

 cannot return when it calls. They'll haunt you, those 

 lone silences, and urge and plead, and beckon. 



And now they're all a-crying, and it's no use me denying : 

 The spell of them is on me, and I'm helpless as a child : 

 My heart is aching, aching, but I hear them sleeping, waking ; 

 It's the lure of Little Voices, it's the mandate of the Wild."* 



From R. W. Service's " Sengs of a Sourdough." By permission. 



THE END. 



