one of his fore legs caught over his horn, so that he could not run,
and they hamstrung him and cut his throat. He had probably managed to
get himself into this awkward attitude while fighting with some of his
fellows. The vultures had consumed all the flesh of the oryx, and
likewise torn my blanket with which I had covered her.

Mr. Gumming thus describes an innumerable herd of blesboks which he
encountered in the plains of Africa.

The game became plentiful in about ten days after we left Colesberg,
but when we came to the Vet River I beheld with astonishment and
delight decidedly one of the most wonderful displays which I had
witnessed during my varied sporting career in Southern Africa. On my
right and left the plain exhibited one purple mass of graceful
blesboks, which extended without a break as far as my eyes could
strain: the depth of their vast legions covered a breadth of about six
hundred yards. On pressing upon them, they cantered along before me,
not exhibiting much alarm, taking care, however, not to allow me to
ride within six hundred yards of them. On, on I rode, intensely
excited with the wondrous scene before me, and hoped at length to get
to windward of at least some portion of the endless living mass which
darkened the plain, but in vain. Like squadrons of dragoons, the
entire breadth of this countless herd held on their forward course as
if aware of my intention, and resolved not to allow one to weather
them.

At length I determined to play upon their ranks, and, pressing my
horse to his utmost speed, I dashed forward, and, suddenly halting,
sprang from the saddle, and, giving my rifle at least two feet of
elevation, red right and left into one of their darkest masses. A