we trotted slowly at first, obliquely toward the main largest mass of animals. One must never go directly at them until you are sure they will not run off immediately, and must not go quickly at first. The animals see a horseman long before he sees them, of course, but so many mingles are continually galloping about that the cattle and sheep will not run off immediately. When the animals throw up their heads where we were perhaps half a mile away and stand looking at us, restlessly trotting about, stamping, running a few steps only to again stop and stare at us. We kept steady on for perhaps a quarter of a mile. Then they made up their minds that the danger coming toward them was really imminent, and off they started in a long line. With a shout to my boy, I gave Kublai Khan his rein, swung sharply to the right cut across their course, and we were away. My pony had seen the animals long ago and was nervously pulling at the bit, throwing his head up, with ears erect anxious to be off. When at last I gave him the word, down she gathered his legs for a tempo; brought forward, down met his head, and flashed forward, putting away more of strength behind this flying leap. His broad muscles rippled between my knees.