zy, who
wheeled round, gave one bound, and just carried his rider clear.

It was no light matter, and Dyke wondered that, in the sudden twist
given to his loins by the cob's spring round, he had not been unhorsed.

But the eland did not attempt to renew the attack, gathering up its
forces and bearing away for the distant herds, with Duke snapping at its
flank; and the chase was again renewed, with Emson's horse beginning to
lose ground, while Breezy seemed to have been roused to greater effort.

Emson shouted something to Dyke, who was some distance to the left, but
what it was the boy did not hear. He had one idea in his mind, and that
was to secure the game so necessary to their existence, and to this end
he urged his cob on, getting it at last level with the great antelope,
which was a few yards to his right.

It was all a chance, he knew, but Emson was beaten, and the antelope
seemed ready to go on for hours; so, waiting his time, he checked his
speed a little, and let the animal go on while he rode to the other side
and brought it on his left.

There was good reason for the act. He could now let the barrel of his
heavy piece rest upon his left arm, as he held it pistol-wise, and at
last, when well abreast, he levelled it as well as he could, aiming at
the broad shoulder, and fired.

A miss, certainly, and then he galloped on for another hundred yards
before he ventured to draw trigger again, this time watchfully, for fear
of a sudden turn and charge, and not till he was pretty close and
perfectly level.

Breezy was in full stride, and going in the most elastic way in spite of
the long run, but the eland was labouring heavily, as Dyke drew trigger,
felt the sharp, jerking recoil shoot right up his arm to the shoulder;
and then to his astonishment, as he dashed on out of the smoke, he was
alone, and the eland lying fifty yards behind, where it had come down
with a tremendous crash.

CHAPTER NINE.

A QUEER PREDICAMENT.

"Bravo! splendid!" panted Emson, as he and his brother met by the side
of the dead eland, upon whose flank Duke had mounted, and stood with his
red tongue out, too much run down to bark. "Why, Dyke, lad, how did you
manage it? Right through the shoulder. You couldn't have done better
at a stationary target."

"All chance," said the boy, panting as heavily as the dog; and lowering
himself off his nag, he loosened the girths, and then sank at full
length upon the sand.

"Tired?"