And in the stream-bed quivered bolt upright,

Caught in a cleft of rock.

With frantic arm I struck

Straight as a snake across the pool,

And climbed the further bank;

And plunging through deep brake,

Ran wildly onward,

Startling as I went

A browsing herd of antelope,

That, bounding, fled before me down the valley

And after them I raced,

As though the hunter,

Not the hunted,

Until the chase sang in my blood,

And braced my straining thews.

I knew not if men followed,

Yet, on I sped, impetuously,

As speeds the fleet-foot onaga,

That breasts the windy morning,

With lifted head, and nostrils wide,

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