98 The Wilderness Hunter 



kind of frontier building always warm in winter. 

 After turning my horse into the rough log stable 

 with the horses of the two cowboys, I joined the 

 latter at supper inside the dugout; being received 

 of course with hearty cordiality. After the intense 

 cold outside the warmth within was almost oppres- 

 sive, for the fire was roaring in the big stone fire- 

 place. The bunks were broad; my two friends 

 turned into one, and I was given the other, with 

 plenty of bedding ; so that my sleep was sound. 



We had breakfasted and saddled our horses and 

 were off by dawn next morning. My companions, 

 muffled in furs, started in opposite directions to ride 

 their lonely beats, while I steered for my hunting- 

 ground. It was a lowering and gloomy day; at 

 sunrise pale, lurid sundogs hung in the glimmering 

 mist; gusts of wind moaned through the ravines. 



At last I reached a row of bleak hills, and from 

 a ridge looked cautiously down on the chain of 

 plateaus, where I had been told I should see the 

 antelope. Sure enough, there they were, to the 

 number of several hundred, scattered over the level 

 snow-streaked surface of the nearest and largest 

 plateau, greedily cropping the thick, short grass. 

 Leaving my horse tied in a hollow I speedily stalked 

 up a coulie to within a hundred yards of the nearest 

 band and killed a good buck. Instantly all the ante- 

 lope in sight ran together into a thick mass and 

 raced away from me, until they went over the oppo- 



