As he had anticipated, his quarry had moved northward.

Kentuck let out into a swinging stride, which in an hour had the loping herd in sight.

Every jump now took him upon higher ground, where the sand failed, and the grass grew thicker and began to bend under the wind.
In the teeth of the nipping gale Jones slipped close upon the herd without alarming even a cow.

More than a hundred little reddish-black calves leisurely loped in the rear.

Kentuck, keen to his work, crept on like a wolf, and the hunter's great fist clenched the coiled lasso.
Before him expanded a boundless plain.