! Over there is one of the wild gazelles."

I followed the direction of her eyes and saw, peering curiously down at
us from beyond the top of a little ridge, something like a hundred yards
away, the head, horns, and neck of a prong-horn buck, standing facing
us, and seeming not much thicker than a knife blade. Her keen eyes
caught this first; my own, I fancy, being busy elsewhere. At once I
slipped out of my saddle and freed the long, heavy rifle from its sling.
I heard her voice, hard now with eagerness. I caught a glance at her
face, brown between her braids. She was a savage woman!

"Quick!" she whispered. "He'll run."

Eager as she, but deliberately, I raised the long barrel to line and
touched the trigger. I heard the thud of the ball against the antelope's
shoulder, and had no doubt that we should pick it up dead, for it
disappeared, apparently end over end, at the moment of the shot.
Springing into the saddle, I raced with my companion to the top of the
ridge. But, lo! there was the antelope two hundred yards away, and going
as fast on three legs as our horses were on four.

"Ride!" she called. "Hurry!" And she spurred off at breakneck speed in
pursuit, myself following, both of us now forgetting poesy, and quite
become creatures of the chase.

The prong-horn, carrying lead as only the prong-horn can, kept ahead of
us, ridge after ridge, farther and farther away, mile after mile, until
our horses began to blow heavily, and our own faces were covered with
perspiration. Still we raced on, neck and neck, she riding with hands
low and weight slightly forward, workmanlike as a jockey. Now and again
I heard her call out in eagerness.

We should perhaps have continued this chase until one or the other of
the horses dropped, but now her horse picked up a pebble and went
somewhat lame. She pulled up and told me to ride on alone. After a pause
I slowly approached the top of the next ridge, and there, as I more than
half suspected, I saw the antelope lying down, its head turned back.
Eager to finish the chase, I sprang down, carelessly neglecting to throw
the bridle rein over my horse's head. Dropping flat, I rested on my
elbow and fired carefully once more. This time the animal rolled over
dead. I rose, throwing up my hat with a shout of victory, and I heard,
shrilling to me across the distance, her own cry of exultation, as that
of some native woman applauding a red hunter.

Alas for our joy of victory! Our success