He threw his head up preparatory to starting off, and he was just upon the move as I touched the trigger.

He fell like a stone to the shot, but almost immediately he regained his feet and bounded off, receiving a bullet from the second barrel without a flinch.

In full speed he rushed away across the party of aggageers about three hundred yards distant.
Out dashed Abou Do from the ranks on his active gray horse, and away he flew after the wounded tetel, his long hair floating in the wind, his naked sword in hand, and his heels digging into the flanks of his horse, as though armed with spurs in the last finish of a race.

It was a beautiful course.

Abou Do hunted like a cunning greyhound; the tetel turned, and, taking advantage of the double, he cut off the angle; succeeding by the manoeuvre, he again followed at tremendous speed over the numerous inequalities of the ground, gaining in the race until he was within twenty yards of the tetel, when we lost sight of both game and hunter in the thick bushes.