disgraceful desire to get away before the rest did.

But the waterbuck had to yield in turn to the plains gazelles;
especially to the Thompson's gazelle, familiarly-and
affectionately-known as the "Tommy." He is a quaint little chap,
standing only a foot and a half tall at the shoulder, fawn colour
on top, white beneath, with a black, horizontal stripe on his
side, like a chipmunk, most lightly and gracefully built. When he
was first made, somebody told him that unless he did something
characteristic, like waggling his little tail, he was likely to
be mistaken by the undiscriminating for his bigger cousin, the
Grant's gazelle. He has waggled his tail ever since, and so is
almost never mistaken for a Grant's gazelle, even by the
undiscriminating. Evidently his religion is Mohammedan, for he
always has a great many wives. He takes good care of them,
however. When danger appears, even when danger threatens, he is
the last to leave the field. Here and there he dashes
frantically, seeing that the women and children get off. And when
the herd tops the hill, Tommy's little horns bring up the rear of
the procession. I like Tommy. He is a cheerful, gallant, quaint
little person, with the air of being quite satisfied with his own
solution of this complicated world.

Among the low brush at the edge of the river jungle dwelt also
the dik-dik, the tiniest miniature of a deer you could possibly
imagine. His legs are lead pencil size, he stands only about nine
inches tall, he weighs from five to ten pounds; and yet he is a
perfect little antelope, horns and all. I used to see him singly
or in pairs standing quite motionless and all but invisible in
the shade of bushes; or leaping suddenly to his feet and