d the main
herd one evening about six o'clock, and it was a sight which made us
gasp for breath. We were shifting camp, and my wife and I were
trotting along parallel to the carts which moved slowly over the
trail a mile away. We had had a delightful, as well as a profitable,
day. Yvette had been busy with her camera, while I picked up an
antelope, a bustard, three hares, and half a dozen marmots. We were
loafing in our saddles, when suddenly we caught sight of the cook
standing on his cart frantically signaling us to come.

In ten seconds our ponies were flying toward the caravan, while we
mentally reviewed every accident which possibly could have happened
to the boys. Lu met us twenty yards from the trail, trembling with
excitement and totally incoherent. He could only point to the south
and stammer, "Too many antelope. Over there. Too many, too many."

I slipped off Kublai Khan's back and put up the glasses. Certainly
there were animals, but I thought they must be sheep or ponies.
Hundreds were in sight, feeding in one vast herd and in many smaller
groups. Then I remembered that the nearest well was twenty miles
away; therefore they could not be horses. I looked again and knew
they must be antelope--not in hundreds, but in thousands.

Mr. Larsen in Urga had told us of herds like this, but we had never
hoped to see one. Yet there before us, as far as the eye could
reach, was a yellow mass of moving forms. In a moment Yvette and I
had left the carts. There was no possibility of concealment, and our
only chance was to run the herd. When we were perhaps half a mile
away the nearest animals threw up their heads and began to stamp and
run about, only to stop again and stare at us. We kept on very
slowly, edging nearer every moment. Suddenly they decided that we
were really dangerous, and the herd strung out like a regiment of
yellow-coated soldiers.

Kublai Khan had seen the antelope almost as soon as we left the
carts, and although he had already traveled forty miles that day,
was nervously champing the bit with head up and ears erect. When at
last I gave him the word, he gathered himself for one terrific
spring; down went his head and he dashed forward with every ounce of
strength behind his flying legs. His run was the long, smooth stride
of a thoroughbred, and it sent the blood surging through my veins in
a wild thrill of exhilaration. Once only I glanced back at Yvette.
She was almost at my side. Her hair had loo