NEW TRAVELS ON AN OLD TRAIL 45 



air that all of us were ceriain it was a wolf. There 

 are always antelope on the Panj-kiang plain, however, 

 and we loaded the magazines of our rifles as soon as 

 we left the telegraph station. I was having a bit of 

 sport with an inunense flock of golden plover [Pluvialis 

 dominicus fulvus) when the people in the cars signaled 

 me to return, for a fine antelope buck was standing 

 only a few hundred yards from the road. The ground 

 was as smooth and hard as an asphalt pavement and 

 we skimmed along at forty miles an hour. When the 

 animal had definitely made up its mind to cross in front 

 of us, Charles gave the accelerator a real push and the 

 car jumped to a speed of forty-eight miles. The an- 

 telope was doing his level best to "cross our bows" but 

 he was too far away, and for a few moments it seemed 

 that we would surely crash into him if he held his course. 

 It was a great race. Yvette had a death grip on my 

 coat, for I was sitting half over the edge of the car 

 ready to jump when Charles threw on the brakes. 

 With any one but Coltman at the wheel I would have 

 been too nervous to enjoy the ride, but we all had con- 

 fidence in his superb driving. 



The buck crossed the road not forty yards in front 

 of us, just at the summit of a tiny hill. Charles and 

 I both fired once, and the antelope turned half over in 

 a whirl of dust. It disappeared behind the hill crest 

 and we expected to find it dead on the other side, but 

 the slope was empty and even with our glasses we could 

 not discover a sign of life on the plain, which stretched 

 away to the horizon apparently as level as a floor. It 



