Brown Jug's mane whipped my bridle band.

Dimly I was conscious of soapweed, sacatone, mesquite, as we passed them.

They were abreast and gone before I could think of them or how they were to be dodged.

Two antelope bounded away to the left; birds rose hastily from the grasses.

A sudden chirk, chirk, chirk, rose all about me.