13P 



A MISCALCULATION. 



the right, while Bob pushed his pony still harder. He was confident of interposing 

 himself across the path of the game, until he found that, despite his desperate ex- 

 ertions, he was bound to fall short after all. 



When fifty feet separated pursuer and fugitive, the oryx shot by, like an arrow 

 discharged from a bow. 



Immediately the course of the youth became parallel to that of the fleeing 

 animal, and, though his steed was doing his best, he steadily fell to the rear. 



" I could shoot you easily enough, but I won't," said Bob, slackening his pace* 



THE SPOTTED HYENA. 



" for you are too pretty to harm. I wonder whether Jack could overhaul you with 

 his mustang." 



The lad kept up the pursuit a short distance farther, more to compel the oryx 

 to continue its astounding speed than with any idea of running it down; but the 

 pony, seeing the idleness of pursuit, voluntarily slackened its pace, until it drew 

 down to a moderate gallop, which soon ended in a halt. 



The fugitive ran but a short distance farther, when he came to a graceful stop, 

 broadside to his pursuer, at whom he looked with an exultant air, as if to say: 



