HUNTING THE PRONG-BUCK. 287 
appear perfectly bewildered. When, by this 
manceuvre, the Indians have approached sufii- 
ciently near, each throws his unerring lasso, then 
shoots arrows at the flying herd. As many as 
six are often killed and caught at one circling. 
On foot the crafty savage, getting the wind of 
the herd, crawls along the grass, and every now 
and then lies on his back, and elevates his two 
legs into the air. Attached to the heel of each 
mocassin is a strip of ermine-skin, which floats 
like a pennant. The antelopes soon notice it, 
stand, and look; down go the heels, and on the 
Indian crawls; and if the herd does not come 
towards him, he gets a little nearer. In a short 
time their curiosity tempts them to approach 
slowly and cautiously towards the two feet, 
which are performing every variety of strange 
evolution. Near enough, they too soon discover 
their error ; the twang of the string and whistling 
arrow, that goes up to the feather-end in the 
chest of the foremost male, warns the others to 
fly, and leave their leader and king a prey to the 
wily redskin. 
We are on the sandy waste, and right well 
does it merit its name desert, for a more dismal 
barren wilderness cannot be imagined; its surface 
is all pumice and cinders, with nothing growing 
