could do
the same.

It was only a question of "start," therefore. Could he get near enough
the bulls to have a fair start, he would run one of them down to a
certainty. The result might be different should the elands take the
alarm at a long distance off, and scour away over the plain.

To get within fair starting distance, that was the point to be
attempted.

But Hendrik was a wary hunter, and soon accomplished this. Instead of
riding direct for the elands, he made a grand circuit--until he had got
the herd between him and the cliff--and then, heading his quagga for
them, he rode quietly forward.

He did not sit erect in the saddle, but held himself bent down, until
his breast almost touched the withers of the quagga. This he did to
deceive the elands, who would otherwise have recognised him as an enemy.
In such a fashion they could not make out what kind of creature was
coming towards them; but stood for a long while gazing at Hendrik and
his quagga with feelings of curiosity, and of course some little alarm.

They, however, permitted the hunter to get within five hundred yards
distance--near enough for him--before they broke off in their heavy
lumbering gallop.

Hendrik now rose in his saddle, put spurs to his quagga, and followed
the herd at full speed.

As he had designed, so it came to pass. The elands ran straight in the
direction of the cliff--not where the pass was, but where there was
none--and, on reaching the precipice, were of course forced to turn into
a new direction, transverse to their former one. This gave Hendrik the
advantage, who, heading his quagga diagonally, was soon upon the heels
of the herd.

It was Hendrik's intention to single out one of the bulls, and run him
down--leaving the others to gallop off wherever they wished.

His intention was carried out; for shortly after, the fattest of the
bulls shot to one side, as if to escape in that way, while the rest ran
on.

The bull was not so cunning as he thought himself. Hendrik's eye was
upon him; and in a moment the quagga was turned upon his track.

Another burst carried both game and pursuer nearly a mile across the
plain. The eland had turned from a rufous dun colour to that of a leaden
blue; the saliva fell from his lips in long streamers, foam dappled his
broad chest, the tears rolled out of his big eyes, and his gallop became
changed to a weary trot. He was evidently "blown."

In a few minutes more the quagga was close upon