His feet were spread a little apart
as though he was prepared to dash away again at the first
opportunity, and he gazed in a curious way first at one, then at
another of the three ropers that surrounded him and now sat their
horses, waiting. There was still enough light left for a picture,
but Kearton was nearly done.
"Give him a minute's breather," said the Colonel. " We'll hold
the critter till he's ready."
We took Kearton off his horse and stretched him on the ground and
poured the lukewarm water from a canteen on his head. Meanwhile
Cobbet screwed the camera to the tripod and set it up.
By the time Gobbet had finished, Kearton was on his feet again.
From his position near by, Means ventured the opinion that it was
too much excitement that had knocked him over, and Kearton swore
back at him pleasantly and went to work.
A high-pitched yell from the Colonel sent the giraffe away across
the open with that clumsy-looking, powerful gallop that is all
his own, and with his long neck plunging slowly back and forth.
Loveless's black, one of the fastest horses in the string, had
hard work to gain on the giraffe, expecially as the animal
swerved quickly at the last moment and fled down the eastern
slope of the hill through the scrub where the going was none too
good.
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