230 Sport and Life in the Further Himalaya 



and, I should like to say, dashed in to turn 

 the buck towards me 



A sylvan huntress by my side 

 To chase the flying deer. 



But, alas ! our shaggy Ladaki ponies, though 

 certainly of desert descent, did not match the 

 wind for swiftness. She, in short, disappeared 

 into the bottom, where the stream ran, and did 

 not reappear. My pony, too, had no idea of 

 moving out of a trot. Whip and objurgations 

 had no effect, and I could not decrease the buck's 

 lead. I just managed, however, to keep him in 

 sight, and after a couple of miles of the hardest 

 "finishing" I have ever done, saw him dip down 

 into a ravine and not come out again. "Now 

 you're mine," I thought, and leaving my pony 

 approached the edge, rifle in hand. But no buck 

 was to be seen. A blood spoor was there, though, 

 leading out of the ravine, and on surmounting 

 the far slope I saw the buck a long way off now, 

 going steadily away as hard as ever. Vires 

 acquirit eundo is too true of many a badly 

 wounded beast. I had been deceived by the 

 ground. My henchman was at hand, so taking 

 his pony, on I went. After more desperate 

 "finishing" with heels and whip, I got within 

 two hundred yards of the buck, when my pony 



