A Trip on the Prairie 219 



of cactus as a cover, bareheaded under the blaz- 

 ing sun. In each case, after nearly an hour's irk- 

 some, thirsty work, the stalk failed. One band sim- 

 ply ran off without a second's warning, alarmed at 

 some awkward movement on my part, and without 

 giving a chance for a shot. In the other instance, 

 while still at very long and uncertain range, I heard 

 the sharp barking alarm-note of one of the prong- 

 horn; the whole band instantly raising their heads 

 and gazing intently at their would-be destroyer. 

 They were a very long way off; but, seeing it was 

 hopeless to try to get nearer I rested my rifle over 

 a little mound of earth and fired. The dust came 

 up in a puff to one side of the nearest antelope; 

 the whole band took a few jumps and turned again ; 

 the second shot struck at their feet, and they went 

 off like so many racehorses, being missed again as 

 they ran. I sat up by a sage-brush thinking they 

 would of course not come back, when to my surprise 

 I saw them wheel round with the precision of a 

 cavalry squadron, all in line and fronting me, the 

 white and brown markings on their heads and 

 throats showing like the facings on soldiers' uni- 

 forms; and then back they came charging up till 

 again within long range, when they wheeled their 

 line as if on a pivot and once more made off, this 

 time for good, not heeding an ineffectual fusillade 

 from the Winchester. Antelope often go through 

 a series of regular evolutions, like so many trained 

 horsemen, wheeling, turning, halting, and running 

 as if under command; and their coming back to 



