208 SIR VICTOR BROOKE CHAP. 



going heavier, less tongue out, and an expression 

 of desperation stealing over his robber - like grizzled 

 countenance. I was so intent upon turning him from 

 his point that I never attempted to use the gun for fear 

 of losing direction and thereby ground. One final 

 desperate spurt, which nearly burst the little nag, and I 

 had him turned, and away we went again as merrily as 

 ever back the way we had come. This, however, could 

 not last ; flesh and blood could not stand it. We had 

 been going literally as fast as we could cram for 

 twenty minutes, and something must give way some- 

 where. Just as I was beginning to fear that that 

 something would be the Sheikh, without warning and 

 suddenly the wolf squatted at full length, his nose on 

 his forefeet and his tail straight out behind him, 

 panting like a steam-engine. I pulled up as fast as I 

 could, but not till I had passed him, when up he 

 jumped, and made off for the hills, his old direction, as 

 fast as he could. I managed, however, to get one 

 barrel off at 30 yards, and hit him in the hind legs, 

 and then, without waiting to fire the second, thrust 

 after him, and did all that was in me to head him 

 again. He was getting very much done, and this time 

 I succeeded much easier, when he began to twist and 

 turn in all directions. He was a good deal impeded 

 with his wound, and every now and then turned a 

 complete somersault. I now felt I had him, and 

 simply tried to ride him to bay. Shorter and shorter 

 got his circles, and at last the poor beast pulled up on 

 a little tableland and faced me, and in the next 

 moment he was in the happy hunting grounds. Gladly 

 I gave a loud whoop and sprang from the saddle to 

 save the gallant little horse who was clean done, and to 

 examine my prize. It was getting dark, and it was a 

 long way from home, so I had not long to look at 



