SPORT IN THE CRIMEA. 



The best agriculturists here are the German 

 colonists, whose neat homesteads remind one for 

 the moment of lands nearer home. Even the 

 Tartars are better than the Malo Russ, but they 

 have lately been leaving the Crimea in large 

 numbers to escape the compulsory military service 

 which Russia seeks to impose upon them. Every- 

 where the army seems to be the worst enemy of 

 the State. 



At last our ride comes to an end, and there is 

 a general stretching of limbs and buckling on of 

 shot-belts and powder-flasks, for with many muzzle- 

 loaders are still the fashion here. The place at which 

 we have stopped is the ' Starrie Metchat,' or old 

 church, a Tartar ruin near a well, embosomed in 

 rosemary- covered hills. Near this well we pitch our 

 tents, and then we each go off on a beat of our own. 

 Here there is room enough for all, and as some 

 excellent Russian sportsmen have a careless way 

 of shooting through their friends' legs at a bolting 

 hare, perhaps solitude has its peculiar advantages. 



As you breast the first hill the sweet-scented 

 covert comes nearly up to your waist, and right 

 and left of you huge grasshoppers jump away or 

 into your face with a vicious snap that is at first 

 enough to upset the best regulated nerves. But 

 see, your dog is pointing, and as you near him a 

 large covey of grey birds, larger than our grouse, 

 get up with whistling, wings, and with smooth 



