sedately away in single file. When we were certain they had all quite
gone, we resumed our painful descent.

At length we dropped below the screen of trees, and could stand upright
and straighten the kinks out of our backs. But now a new complication
arose. The wind, which had been the very basis of our calculations,
commenced to chop and veer. Here it blew from one quarter, up there on
the side hill from another, and through the bushes in quite another
direction still. Then without warning they would all shift about. We
watched the tops of the grasses through our binoculars, hoping to read
some logic into the condition. It was now four o'clock--our stalk had
thus far consumed two hours--and the roan must soon begin to feed. If we
were going to do anything, we must do it soon.

Therefore we crept through a very spiky, noisy jungle to its other edge,
sneaked along the edge until we could make out the tree, and raised
ourselves for a look. Through the glass I could just make out the
roan's face stripe. He was still there!

Quite encouraged, I instantly dropped down and crawled to within range.
When again I raised my head the roan had disappeared. One of these
aggravating little side puffs of breeze had destroyed our two hours'
work.

The outlook was not particularly encouraging. We had no means of telling
how far the animal would go, nor into what sort of country; and the hour
was well advanced toward sunset. However, we took up the track, and
proceeded to follow it as well as we could. That was not easy, for the
ground was hard and stony. Suddenly C. threw himself flat. Of course we
followed his example. To us he whispered that he thought he had caught a