120 Hunting Trips of a Ranchman 



so thick and interlaced that they can hear the ap- 

 proach of any one from a long distance off, and 

 hence are rarely surprised. If they think there is 

 danger that the intruder will discover them, they 

 arise and skulk silently off through the thickest part 

 of the brush. If followed, they keep well ahead, 

 moving perfectly noiselessly through the thicket, 

 often going round in a circle and not breaking cover 

 until hard pressed; yet all the time stepping with 

 such sharp-eyed caution that the pursuing hunter 

 will never get a glimpse of the quarry, though the 

 patch of brush may not be fifty rods across. 



At times the white-tail will lie so close that it 

 may almost be trodden on. One June morning I 

 was riding down along the river, and came to a 

 long bottom, crowded with rose-bushes, all in bloom. 

 It was crossed in every direction by cattle paths, 

 and a drove of long-horned Texans were scattered 

 over it. A cow-pony gets accustomed to traveling 

 at speed along the cattle trails, and the one I 

 bestrode threaded its way among the twisted narrow 

 paths with perfect ease, loping rapidly onward 

 through a sea of low rose-bushes, covered with the 

 sweet, pink flowers. They gave a bright color to 

 the whole plain, while the air was filled with the 

 rich, full songs of the yellow-breasted meadow 

 larks, as they perched on the topmost sprays of the 

 little trees. Suddenly a white-tail doe sprang up 

 almost from under the horse's feet, and scudded 

 off with her white flag flaunting. There was no 

 reason for harming her, and she made a pretty 



