THE LURE OF THE PLAINS 109 



ceedings interestedly but without a tremor, and even 

 when I mounted, he paid not the slightest attention to 

 the head dangling on his flanks. Thereby he showed 

 that he was a very exceptional pony. In the weeks 

 which followed he proved it a hundred times, and I came 

 to love him as I have never loved another animal. 



Yvette and I trotted slowly back to camp, thrilled 

 with the excitement of the wild ride. We began to real- 

 ize that we were lucky to have escaped without broken 

 necks. The race taught us never again to attempt to 

 guide our ponies away from the marmot holes which 

 spotted the plains, for the horses could see them better 

 than we could and all their lives had known that they 

 meant death. 



That morning was our initiation into what is the finest 

 sport we have ever known. Hunting from a motor car 

 is undeniably exciting at first, but a real sportsman can 

 never care for it very long. The antelope does not have 

 a chance against gas and steel and a long-range rifle. 

 On horseback the conditions are reversed. An antelope 

 can run twice as fast as the best horse living. It can 

 see as far as a man with prism binoculars. All the odds 

 are in the animal's favor except two — its fatal desire to 

 run in a circle about the pursuer, and the use of a high- 

 power rifle. But even then an antelope three hundred 

 yards away, going at a speed of fifty miles an hour, is 

 not an easy target. 



Of course, the majority of sportsmen will say that it 

 cannot be done with any certainty — until they go to 

 Mongolia and do it themselves! But, as I remarked in 



