366 The Wilderness H^tnter. 



preserved the gravity of an Indian, though having a dis- 

 concerting way of suddenly tip-toeing across the room to 

 some unfamiliar object, such as a peacock screen or a 

 vase, feeling it gently with one forefinger, and returning 

 with noiseless gait to his chair, unmoved, and making no 

 comment. On the morning of a hunt he would always 

 appear on a stout horse, clad in a long linen duster, a 

 huge club in his hand, and his trousers working half-way 

 up his legs. He hunted everything on all possible occa- 

 sions ; and he never under any circumstances shot an 

 animal that the dogs could kill. Once when a skunk got 

 into his house, with the direful stupidity of its perverse 

 kind, he turned the hounds on it ; a manifestation of 

 sporting spirit which aroused the ire of even his long- 

 suffering wife. As for his dogs, provided they could run 

 and fight, he cared no more for their looks than for his 

 own ; he preferred the animal to be half greyhound, but 

 the other half could be fox-hound, colley, or setter, it 

 mattered nothing to him. They were a wicked, hard- 

 biting crew for all that, and Mr. Cowley, in his flapping 

 linen duster, was a first-class hunter and a good rider. 

 He went almost mad with excitement in every chase. 

 His pack usually hunted coyote, fox, jack-rabbit, and deer ; 

 and I have had more than one good run with it. 



My own experience is too limited to allow me to pass 

 judgment with certainty as to the relative speed of the 

 different beasts of the chase, especially as there is so much 

 individual variation. I consider the antelope the fleetest 

 of all however ; and in this opinion I am sustained by 

 Col. Roger D. Williams, of Lexington, Kentucky, who, 



