RICHTERSVELD SPRINGBUCK 223 



Our course lay south-west. The fog had 

 receded but not disappeared; it hung more or 

 less thickly over the plains before us. But it 

 lifted and fell in a most peculiar way; slow 

 undulations, and graceful, deliberate eddies 

 played along its indefinite fringe. Soon we 

 noticed game spoor. Yes, the Capitalist was 

 right. But how large the spoor was; it sug- 

 gested blesbuck rather than springbuck. 



What was that looming through the fog- 

 fringe? It looked almost as large as a cow. 

 But the brown stripe and the lyre-formed 

 horns shewed up clearly every now and then; 

 the creature was indubitably a springbuck. It 

 was not more than two hundred yards away. 

 I supposed it was the changing drift of vapour 

 that distorted and magnified the animal. 

 However, I fired and it fell. 



When we approached the struggling crea- 

 ture I gazed upon it with astonishment; it was 

 so immense. Why, it must have been nearly 

 twice as large as the springbuck of the desert. 

 I asked the Capitalist if this were not an ex- 

 traordinary specimen. No, he said, all the 

 bucks in the vicinity were about as large. 

 Then I recalled having read in Francis 

 Galton's book that he shot a springbuck 

 weighing a hundred and sixty pounds near 



