Hunting the Prong-Buck 119 



loaded with bedding and a scanty supply of food, 

 were driven by three travel-worn, hard-faced men, 

 with broad hats, shaps, and long pistols in their 

 belts. They had brought the herd over plain and 

 mountain pass all the way from far distant Oregon. 



It was a wild, rough country, bare of trees save 

 for a fringe of cottonwoods along the river, and 

 occasional clumps of cedar on the jagged, brown 

 buttes ; as we went further the hills turned the color 

 of chalk, and were covered with a growth of pine. 

 We came upon acres of sunflowers as we journeyed 

 southward; they are not as tall as they are in the 

 rich bottom lands of Kansas, where the splendid 

 blossoms, on their strong stalks, stand as high as 

 the head of a man on horseback. 



Though there were many cattle here, big game 

 was scarce. However, I killed plenty of prairie 

 chickens and sage hens for the pot ; and as the sage 

 hens were still feeding largely on crickets and grass- 

 hoppers, and not exclusively on sage, they were 

 just as good eating as the prairie chickens. I used 

 the rifle, cutting off their heads or necks, and, as 

 they had to be shot on the ground, and often while 

 in motion, or else while some distance away, it was 

 more difficult than shooting off the heads of grouse 

 in the mountains, where the birds sit motionless in 

 trees. The head is a small mark, while to hit the 

 body is usually to spoil the bird; so I found that I 

 averaged three or four cartridges for every head 



