I 12 



Deer and Antelope of North America 



raals were then having a sufficiently hard struggle 

 for existence anyhow. But in the spring the meat 

 of the prongbuck was better than that of any other 

 game, and, moreover, there was not the least dan- 

 ger of mistaking the sexes, and killing a doe acci- 

 dentally, and accordingly I rarely killed anything 

 but pronghorns at that season. In those days 

 we never got any fresh meat, whether on the 

 ranch or while on the round-up or on a wagon 

 trip, unless we shot it, and salt pork became a 

 most monotonous diet after a time. 



Occasionally I killed the prongbuck in a day's 

 hunt from my ranch. If I started with the 

 intention of prongbuck hunting, I always went 

 on horseback ; but twice I killed them on foot 

 when I happened to run across them by accident 

 while looking for mule-deer. I shall always re- 

 member one of these occasions. I was alone in 

 the Elkhorn ranch-house at the time, my fore- 

 man and the only cowpuncher who was not on 

 the round-up having driven to Medora, some forty 

 miles away, in order to bring down the foreman's 

 wife and sister, who were going to spend the sum- 

 mer with him. It was the fourth day of his ab- 

 sence. I expected him in the evening and wanted 

 to have fresh meat, and so after dinner I shoul- 

 dered my rifle and strolled off through the hills. 

 It was too early in the day to expect to see any- 

 thing, and my intention was simply to walk out 



