They left off feeding, and commenced approaching it--halting at short intervals, and then continuing to advance.

They did not move in single file--as the former herd had done--but first one, and then another of the bucks took the lead, each wishing to make a display of his courage.

In a few minutes one of the largest was within range; when Basil, who was lying flat along the grass, took sight at the animal's breast and fired.
The buck leaped up at the shot; but, to the great disappointment of the marksman, turned in his tracks, and fled along with the rest of the herd, all of which had bounded off on hearing the crack of the rifle.
Basil beheld this with some surprise.

He had taken deliberate aim; and he knew that when he did so, it was seldom that his rifle failed him.
He had missed this time, however, as he thought, when he saw the antelope run off apparently unhurt; and, attributing his failure to the hurried manner in which he had loaded his piece, he took up the blanket, and turned with a mortified look towards his companions.
"Look yonder!" cried Francois, who still watched the retreating antelopes; "look at the wolves! Away they go after." "Ha!" exclaimed Lucien, "you have wounded the buck, brother, else the wolves would never follow.

See! they are running upon his track like hounds!" Lucien was right.