i 3 6 



RANCH LIFE AND THE HUNTING-TRAIL 



for more than once a band huddled up and stood gazing at me, while I 

 clambered awkwardly off the horse. The cold rain numbed my fingers 

 and beat into my eyes, and I was hampered by the coat ; so 1 wasted a 

 good many cartridges to get my four head. 



In some places they now seem to have learned wisdom, for the slaughter 

 among them has been so prodigious that the survivors have radically 

 changed their character. Their senses are as keen as ever, and their 

 wits much keener. They no longer give way to bursts of panic curiosity ; 

 they cannot be attracted by any amount of flagging, or by the appearance 

 of unknown objects, as formerly. Where they are still common, as with 

 us, they refuse, under any stress of danger, to enter woodland or thickets, 

 but keep to the flat or broken plains and the open prairies, which they 

 have from time immemorial inhabited. But elsewhere their very nature 

 seems to have altered. They have not only learned to climb and take to 

 the hills, but, what is even more singular, have intruded on the domain of 

 the elk and the deer, frequently making their abode in the thick timber, 

 and there proving the most difficult of all animals to stalk. 



In May and June the little antelope kids appear: funny little fellows, 

 odd and ungainly, but at an astonishingly early age able to run nearly as 

 fast as their parents. They will lie very close if they think that they are 

 unobserved. Once several of us were driving in a herd of cattle while on 

 the round-up. The cattle, traveling in loose order, were a few paces ahead, 

 when, happening to cast down my eyes, I saw, right among their hoofs, a 

 little antelope kid. It was lying flat down with outstretched neck, and did 

 not move, although some of the cattle almost stepped on it. I reined up, 

 got off my horse, and lifted it in my arms. At first it gave two or three con- 

 vulsive struggles, bleating sharply, then became perfectly passive, stand- 

 ing quietly by me for a minute or two when I put it down, after which it 

 suddenly darted off like a flash. These little antelope kids are very easily 

 tamed, being then very familiar, amusing, and inquisitive much more so 

 than deer fawns, though they are not so pretty. Within a few days of their 

 birth they stop seeking protection in hiding and adopt the habits of their 

 parents, following them everywhere, or going off on their own account, 

 being almost as swift, although, of course, not nearly so enduring. 



Three of us witnessed a rather curious incident last spring, showing 

 how little the bringing forth of a fawn affects the does of either deer or 

 antelope. We were walking through a patch of low brushwood, when up 

 got a black-tail doe and went off at full speed. At the second jump she 

 gave birth to a fawn ; but this did not alter her speed in the least, and she 

 ran off quite as well and as fast as ever. We walked up to where she had 



