58 ACROSS MONGOLIAN PLAINS 



after the larger of the two, a huge fellow with rangy 

 legs which carried him forward in a long, swinging 

 lope. The ground was perfect for the car, and the 

 speedometer registered forty miles an hour. He had 

 a thousand-yard start, but we gained rapidly, and I 

 estimated that he never reached a greater speed than 

 thirty miles an hour. Charles was yery anxious to kill 

 the brute from the motor with his .45 caliber automatic 

 pistol, and I promised not to shoot. 



The wolf was running low to the ground, his head 

 a little to one side watching us with one bloodshot 

 eye. He was giving us a great race, but the odds were 

 all against him, and finally we had him right beside 

 the motor. Leaning far out, Coltman fired quickly. 

 The bullet struck just behind the brute, and he swerved 

 sharply, missing the right front wheel by a scant six 

 inches. Before Charles could turn the car he had 

 gained three hundred yards, but we reached him again 

 in little more than a mile. As Coltman was about to 

 shoot a second time, the wolf suddenly dropped from 

 sight. Almost on the instant the car plunged over a 

 bank four feet in height, landed with a tremendous 

 shock — and kept on! Charles had seen the danger in 

 a flash, and had thrown his body against the wheel to 

 hold it steady. Had he not been an expert driver we 

 should inevitably have turned upside down and prob- 

 ably all would have been killed. 



We stopped an instant to inspect the springs, but 

 by a miracle not a leaf was broken. The wolf halted, 

 too, and we could see him standing on a gentle rise with 



