234 SAVAGE SVANETIA. 



he cantered up a watercourse I gave a whistle 

 which for the moraent brought him to a 

 standstiU. I never could shoot lying down, 

 so jumping up I threw up my rifle as he 

 started off wildly again, and rolled him over 

 with a bullet, well home behind the shoulder. 



I have seen a good many heads of chamois 

 killed in the Caucasus since, but none to beat, 

 and very few to equal, that of this my first 

 buck. No doubt if he had not had such large 

 horns or so red a hide, he might have passed 

 for a denizen of greater heights, but I was 

 well content with him as he was, and as I 

 look at his head in my dining-room, I don't 

 in the least regret the weary days he cost me. 

 By comparing my heads with heads of 

 chamois killed in Switzerland, I find the Cau- 

 casian much the smaller of the two. 



After my four days' hard work, it was a 

 luxury to be back in camp by 9 a.m., let 

 alone the unusual satisfaction of coming back 



