THE HOOFED ANIMALS OF THE YELLOWSTONE 



95 



day it was first described, the antelope 

 steadily challenges the attention of all — 

 so different is it from all other existing 

 animals and ha\ing so many strange 

 habits. Even to this day there are 

 many plainsmen who deny that it sheds 

 its horns. Since the day on which the 

 great Audubon drew attention to this 

 peculiarity by denying that such a thing 

 could occur, to the present day, argu- 

 ments pro and con have been tossed back 

 and forth through the pages of our out- 

 door papers. Yet it is not a matter for 

 argument at all. It is a fact that the 

 antelope does shed its horns as regularly 

 as any deer. As in other matters, so 

 here, the antelope has its own method. 

 The only hollow-horned mammal known 

 to shed, it sheds only the sheath of the 

 horn, leaving the bony core with a new 

 sheath already growing upon it. The 

 horns are lost in November, as against 

 February for the white-tailed deer, 

 March for the mvde deer and April for 

 the elk. The new sheath grows so 

 rapidly that the wild antelope with 

 partly grown horn is seldom seen. And 

 the cast horn itself is eaten by mice, 

 chipmunks, gophers, coyotes and even 

 by antelope themselves. Our prong- 

 horn, as the name shows, is noted for 

 having the horn branched. The hair 

 too is remarkable and feels like excelsior, 

 being coarse and stiff. An animal of 

 the open, the eyes of the antelope are on 

 the side of the head and are unusually 

 keen-sighted. This being so, a strange 

 object is noted at once and the antelope's 

 great curiosity leads to an investigation 

 at once. The writer was once bird- 

 hunting in \Yyoming in a region where 

 antelope were very wild and scarce. 

 There was no antelope in sight at the 

 beginning of the hunt; yet a large white 



English setter ranging back and forth 

 after his quarry served to draw a male 

 antelope up to within a hundred feet, 

 although two men and five horses were 

 there in plain sight. The more the dog 

 attended to his own business, the more 

 curious the pronghorn became. The 

 antelope trusts to its own fleet legs for 

 escape, never entering timber if avoid- 

 able. It does not thrive in a zoological 

 garden, and will not breed in a small 

 enclosure. Hence the fate of the species 

 hangs upon the preservation of the Yel- 

 lowstone herd. There are now six hun- 

 dred antelope in it and they are slowly 

 increasing. But they present a hard 

 problem. The young are harried by the 

 coyotes; perhaps the larger wolves also 

 get a few. Wild as they can be, yet so 

 heedless of danger that they are con- 

 stantly trying to leave the park never to 

 return. A few years ago fifteen hundred 

 head got out across the northern bound- 

 ary, scattered and disappeared as if the 

 earth had opened and swallowed them. 

 Appreciating the great value of this herd, 

 the authorities spend more time and 

 money upon its care than upon all the 

 rest of the Yellowstone animals together. 

 Fed every day in winter in corrals espe- 

 cially constructed to admit only the ante- 

 lope, the winter range patroled twice a 

 day, a dozen men employed destroying 

 coyotes and constant watch kept in sum- 

 mer — such is the measure of the care 

 taken of this, our most unique mammal. 

 The white or Rocky Mountain goat 

 has never been seen within the Yellow- 

 stone; nor is there any evidence that it 

 was ever there. It is true that the 

 goat is a more northern animal, yet the 

 park plateau is elevated and at least 

 some of the ground seems suited to its 

 needs. 



