look upon the breaking of his bit as
only a slight misfortune. For a boy he was one of the best riders in
South Africa, and needed no rein to steady him. He could keep his seat
without one. The quagga would soon stop, and he could then repair the
bit, and re-adjust the bridle which he still held in his hands. Such
were his reflections at first.

But their spirit began to alter, when he found that the quagga, instead
of lessening his pace, kept on as hard as ever, and the herd still ran
wildly before him without showing the slightest signs of coming to a
halt.

In fact, the quaggas were running through fear. They saw the mounted
hunter behind them in hot pursuit; and although their old comrade knew
who they were, how were they to tell what he was, with such a tall hunch
upon his back? No quagga he, but some terrible monster, they imagined,
thirsting for their lives, and eager to devour one and all of them!

No wonder they showed their heels in the best style they knew how; and
so well did they show them, that Hendrik's quagga--notwithstanding his
keen desire to get forward among them, and explain away the awkward
business upon his back--was not able to come an inch closer.

He did not lose ground, however. His eagerness to regain his
old associates--to partake once more of their wild freedom--for
he was desperately tired of civilised society, and sick of
elephant-hunting--all these ideas crowded into his mind at the moment,
and nerved him to the utmost exertion. Could he only get up into the
body of the crowd--for the herd now ran in a crowd--a few whimpers would
suffice to explain--they would come to a halt at once,--they would
gather around him, and assist both with hoofs and teeth to get "shed" of
the ugly two-legged thing that clung so tightly to his dorsal vertebrae.

It was "no go," however. Although he was so close to their heels, that
they flung dust in his face, and small pebbles in the face of his rider,
to the no slight inconvenience of the latter; although he "whighered"
whenever he could spare breath, and uttered his "couag,--couag!" in
reality calling them by name, it was "no go." They would not stay. They
would not hear.

And what did Hendrik during all this time? Nothing--he could do nothing.
He could not stay the impetuous flight of his steed. He dared not
dismount. He would have been hurled among sharp rocks, had he attempted
such a thing. His neck would have been broken. He could do
nothing--not