THE LURE OF THE PLAINS 107 



gazelles. We trotted slowly across the gully while the 

 antelope were in sight, and then swung around at full 

 gallop under the protection of the rising ground. We 

 came up just opposite to the herd and dismounted, but 

 were fully six hundred yards away. Suddenly one of 

 those impulses which the hunter never can explain sent 

 them off like streaks of yellow light, but they turned on 

 the opposite hillside, slowed down, and moved uncer- 

 tainly up the valley. 



Much to our surprise four of the animals detached 

 themselves from the others and crossed the depression 

 in our direction. When we saw that they were really 

 coming we threw ourselves into the saddles and galloped 

 forward to cut them off. Instantly the antelope in- 

 creased their speed and literally flew up the hill slope. 

 I shouted to Yvette to watch the holes and shook the 

 reins over Kublai Khan's neck. Like a bullet he was 

 off. I could feel his great muscles flowing between my 

 knees but otherwise there seemed hardly a motion of 

 his body in the long, smooth run. Standing straight up 

 in the stirrups, I gknced back at my wife who was sit- 

 ting her chestnut stallion as lightly as a butterfly. Hat 

 gone, hair streaming, the thrill of it all showed in every 

 line of her body. She was running a close second, almost 

 at my side. I saw a marmot hole flash by. A second 

 deatih trap showed ahead and I swung Kublai Khan to 

 the right. Another and another followed, but the pony 

 leaped them like a cat. The beat of the fresh, clean air; 

 the rush of the splendid horse; the sight of the yellow 

 forms fleeing like wind-blown ribbons across our path — 



