THE IRONICAL ANTELOPE 283 comprehensible, and my mind is a blank ; but struggling and floating, and pushing and wading, recklessly throwing myself forward, clutching what stalks remained above water and pushing them under me, I fought through the fifty odd yards now intervening between me and dry land, and the 'cute " Mrs. Gray." The last 10 yards were the worst of the lot ; I sank up to my neck, and went almost under, my servant afterwards laughingly bringing the mirror for me to see the black bits of grass on my teeth.

Then I threw myself on the ground while the water coursed out of pockets and breeches, and the boots sang a squeaky song as my feet slipped about in the water they retained. " Malesh " (Never mind) ; I moved on, while " Mrs. Gray " laughed to see such sport and moved on as well. And so she played her game ; taking precaution to move where the grass was shortest, she kept me in sight for want of cover, and less than 400 yards never separated us. So, after spending much time, thought, and malediction, in devising impossible methods, I came to the conclusion that the superlative sport of " Mrs. Gray " in this region consisted in witnessing bipeds exhaust themselves in the depths of the evil marsh, then in turn to exhaust their patience by keeping just carefully out of possible range. It really must possess a ludicrous side and be rather fun.

So " Mrs. Gray " became not my victim, and I searched for a spot where I might approach the