200 
AFRICAN HUNTING. 
platter; still I had faint hopes, if I was favoured by 
the ground, I might get a long shot at him. I nursed 
my nag to the best of my judgment, rowelling him 
well, but holding him fast by the head, and endea¬ 
vouring still to keep a spurt in him whenever the 
ground favoured; and in this manner I maintained 
my distance, about 200 yards behind the antelope, 
which I now perceived to be shortening his stroke as 
he was nearing the steep bank of a dry river. Now 
or never! I lifted and shook Luister for my life, 
and he put on a capital spurt, and, as he is an ad¬ 
mirably-trained shooting horse, I could rely on his 
pulling up in ten yards, and I never checked him till 
within twenty yards of the bank. The magnificent 
old buck seemed to know, by instinct, that this was 
the crisis of his fate, and tore away on the opposite 
bank harder than ever, making the stones clatter and 
fiy behind him. In the twinkling of an eye I stood 
alongside my nag, steadied myself, gave one deep- 
drawn breath, planted my left foot firmly in front, 
raised my gun, and fired the moment I got the ivory 
sight to bear upon him, making an admirable shot 
right through the top of his tail, breaking his 
spine and piercing the lungs, killing him dead 120 
yards off. I skinned him with care, bringing the 
skin to the wagon, head and all complete, which I 
hope some day to see at Ley land Vicarage. I never 
suffered more than I did in skinning him with a 
dull knife, in a burning sun, amidst thousands of 
black ants; and his skin was tough as shoe leather. 
