were
shortening rapidly, and the sun did not dip below the rim of our
vast, flat world until half past seven. Then there was an hour of
delightful, lingering twilight, when the stars began to show in tiny
points of light; by nine o'clock the brooding silence of the
Mongolian night had settled over all the plain.

Daylight came at four o'clock, and before the sun rose we had
finished breakfast. Our traps held five marmots and a beautiful
golden-yellow polecat (_Mustela_). I have never seen such an
incarnation of fury as this animal presented. It might have been the
original of the Chinese dragon, except for its small size. Its long,
slender body twisted and turned with incredible swiftness, every
hair was bristling, and its snarling little face emitted horrible
squeaks and spitting squeals. It seemed to be cursing us in every
language of the polecat tribe.

The fierce little beast was evidently bent upon a night raid on a
marmot family. We could imagine easily into what terror the tiny
demon would throw a nest of marmots comfortably snuggled together in
the bottom of their burrow. Probably it would be most interested in
the babies, and undoubtedly would destroy every one within a few
moments. All the weasel family, to which the polecat belongs, kill
for the pure joy of killing, and in China one such animal will
entirely depopulate a hen-roost in a single night.

At six o'clock Yvette and I left camp with the lama and rode
northeast. The plain swept away in long, grassy billows, and at
every rise I stopped for a moment to scan the horizon with my
glasses. Within half an hour we discovered a herd of antelope six or
seven hundred yards away. They saw us instantly and trotted
nervously about, staring in our direction.

Dropping behind the crest of the rise, I directed the lama to ride
toward them from behind while we swung about to cut them off. He was
hardly out of sight when we heard a snort and a rush of pounding
hoofs. With a shout to Yvette I loosened the reins over Kublai
Khan's neck, and he shot forward like a yellow arrow. Yvette was
close beside me, leaning far over her pony's neck. We headed
diagonally toward the herd, and they gradually swung toward us as
though drawn by a powerful magnet. On we went, down into a hollow
and up again on its slope. We could not spare the horses for the
antelope were already over the crest and lost to view, but our
horses took the hill at full speed, and from the summit we coul