The quagga would soon stop, and he could then repair the bit, and re-adjust the bridle which he still held in his hands.

Such were his reflections at first.
But their spirit began to alter, when he found that the quagga, instead of lessening his pace kept on as hard as ever, and the herd still ran wildly before him without showing the slightest signs of coming to a halt.
In fact, the quaggas were running through fear.

They saw the mounted hunter behind them in hot pursuit; and although their old comrade knew who _they_ were, how were they to tell what _he_ was, with such a tall hunch upon his back?
No quagga he, but some terrible monster, they imagined, thirsting for their lives, and eager to devour one and all of them! No wonder they showed their heels in the best style they knew how; and so well did they show them, that Hendrik's quagga--notwithstanding his keen desire to get forward among them, and explain away the awkward business upon his back--was not able to come an inch closer.
He did not lose ground, however.

His eagerness to regain his old associates--to partake once more of their wild freedom--for he was desperately tired of civilised society, and sick of elephant-hunting-- all these ideas crowded into his mind at the moment, and nerved him to the utmost exertion.

Could he only get up into the body of the crowd-- for the herd now ran in a crowd--a few whimpers would suffice to explain--they would come to a halt at once,--they would gather around him, and assist both with hoofs and teeth to get "shed" of the ugly two-legged thing that clung so tightly to his dorsal vertebras.
It was "no go," however.