id likewise, and the speedometer
registered forty-five miles. That was about enough for us, and we
held our speed. The animal drew ahead on a long curve swinging
across in front of the car. He had beaten us by a hundred yards!

But we had a surprise in store for him, for Coltman suddenly shut
off the gas and threw on both brakes. Before the motor had fully
stopped we opened fire. The first two bullets struck just behind the
antelope and a third kicked the dust between his legs. The shock
turned him half over, but he righted himself and ran to his very
limit. The bullets spattering all about kept him at it for six
hundred yards. He put up a desert hare on the way, but that hare
didn't have a chance with the antelope. It reminded me of the story
of the negro who had seen a ghost. He ran until he dropped beside
the road, but the ghost was right beside him. "Well," said the
ghost, "that was _some_ race we had." "Yes," answered the negro,
"but it ain't nothin' to what we're goin' to have soon's ever I git
my breath. And then," said the negro, "we ran agin. And I come to a
rabbit leggin' it up the road, and I said, 'Git out of the way,
rabbit, and let some one run what can run!'" The last we saw of the
antelope was a cloud of yellow dust disappearing over a low rise.

The excitement of the chase had been an excellent preparation for
the hard work which awaited us not far ahead. The going had been
getting heavier with every mile, and at last we reached a long
stretch of sandy road which the motors could not pull through. With
every one except the driver out of the car, and the engine racing,
we pushed and lifted, gaining a few feet each time, until the
shifting sand was passed. It meant two hours of violent strain, and
we were well-nigh exhausted; a few miles farther, however, it had
all to be done again. Where the ground was hard, there was such a
chaos of ruts and holes that our arms were almost wrenched from
their sockets by the twisting wheels.

This area more nearly approaches a desert than any other part of the
road to Urga. The soil is mainly sandy, but the Gobi sagebrush and
short bunch grass, although sparse and dry, still give a covering of
vegetation, so that in the distance the plain appears like a rolling
meadowland.

[Illustration: At the End of the Long Trail from Outer Mongolia]

[Illustration: Women of Southern Mongolia]

When we saw our first northern Mongol I was delighted. Every one is
a study for a