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A
Cossack poem was sung at a party to entertain five English Borzoi
lovers, who had been asked to Moscow in Sept 92 to Judge the breed at
the Military Hunting Show, and it left a lasting impression on me, and
created a desire to do just that “Hunt with the Borzoi”. When the
invitation was issued, I could not believe I was actually going to have
the chance to hunt with my favourite breed. A
friend and I flew to Moscow towards the end of October. We stayed the
night at a flat belonging to one of the organisers of the trip and the
next day we were put on train for the 14 hour Journey to Alexikovo in
the Novonikolaieski Region about 300km from Volgograd. We were met at
the station, at about 4.30 am and driven to the Cossack camp, a Journey
of about 30 minutes. We were greeted by Tarik, a self-styled “Chief of
all Borzois”; who I have known for sometime now. A huge man,
resembling a bear more than a human being! Tarik keeps about 40 Borzoi
at his kennels in the gardens of Moscow University, including several
Hortjes, a few Taigen and Taizy and one steppe Borzoi. Today he had 8
Borzoi with him and 3 Hortjes. Several other Cossacks were staying at
the camp, and at around 9 am people, dogs and we climbed into a truck,
and drove to the “Meet”. We
arrived some half an hour later, at a farm belonging; I was told, to one
of the oldest living breeders of Borzoi. The sight was unforgettable!
Several more Cossacks mounted on their sturdy ponies, all wearing the
inevitable fur hat, very glamorous, carrying their long thonged and
beautifully made leather whips; I was to be presented with one later.
The ponies’ saddles and particularly the bridles were very ornate,
covered in tassels and silver medallions, and all with their Borzoi. We
had three full days hunting, and on each day, had an average of around
thirty Borzoi of which around six were Hortje. I was disappointed to see
no Taigen or Taizy, as they are so incredibly fast. We
started hunting around 9. 30am and continued with the odd short break
for vodka, very necessary, until 4. 30pm. So it was a long day for dogs,
horses and people. Rules were firmly kept to. Each handler, be he or
she, on foot or horseback had his dogs on slip collars, three to a lead,
another presentation I was pleased to accept, and we would walk or ride
in a straight line across acres of open land. We were on the edge of the
Steppes. The quarry was mainly hare, a larger and lighter coloured
specimen than that found in Britain. We had also hoped to find a few
foxes, and the possibility of a wolf had not been completely ruled out.
The latter, to my relief failed. The Borzoi who first saw the quarry,
and only those, were slipped for the course, so depending on the number
of dogs the handler had, there would be a minimum of three, but
sometimes 6 or 9 coursing at one time. What a sight to me, seeing my
breed, doing what it was bred to do, in the land of it’s origin,
unbelievable magic, and the sound of the hounds still in line, baying to
be released, still echoes in my ears like music. The
courses on an average lasted around 10 to 15 minuets. The hares did not
seem to jinx like ours do, running in a straight line, until they
eventually out paced the dogs, or disappeared into woods or undergrowth.
The one hare that did twist and turn was the only one killed in three
days hunting that was out of around 20 and could not really have
contributed much to the camp kitchen store cupboard. The dogs themselves
were incredibly fit, showing hardly any sign of distress after a long
course. They were also very thin, but I came to the conclusion, that it
was more due to the great amount of work they were having, than a lack
of food. Surely had they been starved, they could not possibly have
coped with the enormous distances they covered each day. Concern was
also shown over their general welfare. On
the third day, there was no hunting, so that the hounds could rest, and at
camp at night attention was paid to any cuts or sores that may have
incurred during the days hunting, the dogs too were always fed before us,
although I have to admit I never did see what they were given to eat. If
it was any thing like our food it was of doubtful origin, very fatty, but
filling! To summarize, it was a truly magical experience, the Cossack
hospitality and kindness was quite overwhelming, they have so little and
give so much. I have no doubt in my mind they are truly fond of their
dogs, and certainly extremely proud of them. I feel sure much of their
problems are caused through ignorance and not through cruelty, and
certainly they are eager to learn. In fact, I cannot wait to return.
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