For nearly ten miles he galloped, until the sweat streamed from his horse’s flanks, and the froth from his lips, and still the blesboks scoured on before him at too great a distance to be reached by his rifle. On a fresh horse he could easily have overtaken them now, for they ran but slowly. Perhaps he could have closed upon them as it was, but, with all his desire to do so, he was compelled to ride with caution. The burrows of the ant-eater lay in his path, and once or twice, as he was closing upon the game with good prospect of getting near, his horse had stumbled, and lost ground again. This gave the antelopes a decided advantage, as with light hoof they skimmed over these impediments without fear.
And still Hendrik was reluctant to pull up. He thought of the empty boasting he had made. He thought of the scornful laugh that would greet him on his return. He thought of Groot Willem!
If he could only take back one hide—one pair of horns—all would be well. The laugh would be his. With such thoughts he had been urged forward, in this long and desperate ride.
He began to despair of success. The blesboks seemed to run lightly as ever, while his horse sprang heavily under him. The noble brute must soon give up.
Hendrik at length felt for him, and would have drawn bridle; but while half-resolved to do so, he noticed a range of mountains directly in front of him. They appeared to extend across the plain transversely to his course, or rather two chains met in a sort of angle, quite closing up the plain in that direction. Towards this angle the blesboks were directing their course!
Did they propose taking to the mountain? was the question put by Hendrik to himself. If so, he might find an advantage there. They might come to a stop, and under cover of the rocks and bushes that grew upon the mountain-side, he might be able yet to stalk them.
As Hendrik reflected thus, his eyes wandered along the base of both ranges from the angle where they met to a good distance on each side. To his surprise he perceived that the bases of both ended in a precipitous cliff, with no apparent pass leading up! He was now close enough to see the cliff. Not a break appeared along its whole line!
Hendrik was gratified with this discovery. He was driving the game into an angle, a very trap. They would be compelled to turn upon him, and out of such a thick mass, he could not fail to knock over one. One was all he wanted.
His hopes returned, inspiring him with new vigour; and, uttering a word of encouragement to his horse, he pushed forward.
His ride did not last much longer. Another mile, and it was over.