rc of the circle and held the throttle up as far as it would go.
Our speed increased to forty miles and the car began to gain because
the antelope were running almost across our course.

They were about two hundred yards away when Coltman shut off the gas
and jammed both brakes, but before the car had stopped they had
gained another hundred. I leaped over a pile of bedding and came
into action with the .250 Savage high-power as soon as my feet were
on the ground. Coltman's .30 Mauser was already spitting fire from
the front seat across the windshield, and at his second shot an
antelope dropped like lead. My first two bullets struck the dirt far
behind the rearmost animal, but the third caught a full-grown female
in the side and she plunged forward into the grass.

I realized then what Coltman meant when he said that the antelope
had not begun to run. At the first shot every animal in the herd
seemed to flatten itself and settle to its work. They did not
run--they simply _flew_ across the ground, their legs showing only
as a blur. The one I killed was four hundred yards away, and I held
four feet ahead when I pulled the trigger. They could not have been
traveling less than fifty-five or sixty miles an hour, for they were
running in a semicircle about the car while we were moving at forty
miles in a straight line.

Those are the facts in the case. I can see my readers raise their
brows incredulously, for that is exactly what I would have done
before this demonstration. Well, there is one way to prove it and
that is to come and try it for yourselves. Moreover, I can see some
sportsmen smile for another reason. I mentioned that the antelope I
killed was four hundred yards away. I know how far it was, for I
paced it off. I may say, in passing, that I had never before killed
a running animal at that range. Ninety per cent of my shooting had
been well within one hundred and fifty yards, but in Mongolia
conditions are most extraordinary.

In the brilliant atmosphere an antelope at four hundred yards
appears as large as it would at one hundred in most other parts of
the world; and on the flat plains, where there is not a bush or a
shrub to obscure the view, a tiny stone stands out like a golf ball
on the putting green. Because of these conditions there is strong
temptation to shoot at impossible ranges and to keep on shooting
when the game is beyond anything except a lucky chance. Therefore,
if any of you go to Mongolia to