CHAPTER II
THE CAUCASUS
By Clive Phillipps-Wolley
I. INTRODUCTORY
Although the Caucasus is within a week’s journey of Charing Cross, to the average Englishman it is as little known as Alaska. As a hunting ground for big game it is infinitely less known than Central Africa. The men who have shot in Africa and written of their sport in that country may be counted by the score; but, as far as I know, up to the present moment no book has been written (except my own)[2] upon the sport of the Caucasus, and in this chapter I am obliged to rely upon my own experience and some rough notes sent me by Mr. St. George Littledale. That being so, it may well be that much has been omitted which may hereafter become common knowledge; I can only affirm that the statements made are trustworthy, as being the outcome of actual personal experience, unvarnished and undiluted.
To me the Caucasus is an enchanted land. The spell of its flower-clad steppes, of its dense dreamy forests, of its giant wall of snow peaks, fell upon me whilst I was still a boy, and will be with me all my life through. It was the first country in which I ever hunted, and it may be that I am prejudiced in its favour on that account, or it may be that I am right, that there is no country under heaven so beautiful and none in which the witchery of sport is so strong. Let my confession of prejudice be taken into consideration by all who read this chapter, and with it the verdict of my quondam companion in Svânetia: ‘The Caucasus is an accursed country to hunt in, a country of ceaseless climbing and chronic starvation, in which the sport is not nearly worth the candle.’ This was the honest conviction of one who is no mean sportsman, and who since his Caucasian experiences has done exceptionally well in India.
But men define sport differently. To those whose ambition it is to kill really wild game in a wild and savage country in which they will get but little help from any but their own right hands, to them I say, try the high solitudes round Elbruz and the ironstone ridges of Svânetia.
The best time for sport in the mountains is the end of June, July, August, and the first week in September, after which another month may be spent profitably hunting bear and boar in the chestnut forests on the Black Sea; for aurochs the hunter should be in the sylvan labyrinths at the head of the Kuban in August.
Taking London as your point of departure, you can reach the Caucasus by four different routes: either by Paris, Marseilles, and thence by one of the boats of the Messageries Maritimes (running once a fortnight) viâ Constantinople to Batoum; or by Calais, Cologne, Vienna and Odessa, to Batoum; or by the Oriental Express viâ Paris and Constantinople; or by Wilson’s line of boats from Hull to St. Petersburg, and thence by rail viâ Moscow and Voroneze to Vladikavkaz.