118 PRAIRIE AND FOREST. 



I hobbled my horse, and taking advantage of all inter- 

 vening obstacles, managed unseen to get within five 

 hundred yards. Further approach now looked im- 

 possible, and I had almost relinquished the idea, when 

 it struck me that by making a slight detour to lee- 

 ward, I could find shelter from a dip that appeared 

 to lead in the direction of the game. On hands and 

 knees, slowly I crossed the open, my stomach almost 

 on the ground. The antelopes still continued feeding ; 

 so far they had not been alarmed. Twenty yards more 

 would again place me under cover. He who wishes 

 successfully to stalk game must never deem precaution 

 thrown away. On the care with which you pass 

 over an open space depends often the success of your 

 labour. With a feeling of gratification I regained 

 shelter, and such shelter as I was able to take the 

 twists and knots out of my legs and arms, with the 

 consciousness that I could do so without imperilling 

 success. A few moments' inspection of the game suf- 

 ficed. With renewed care, slowly but steadily, I made 

 for the shelter of an unusually high prairie-dog's 

 earth. From the back of it I would be within eighty 

 or a hundred yards of my prey. The antelopes, per- 

 fectty ignorant of my presence, were quietly feeding, 

 while occasionally one or two of the youngsters, 

 like kids, would shake their heads at each other, 

 rear up or stamp with their feet, and make other 

 grotesque threatenings of attack. The prospect of 

 venison was now in the ascendant. I commenced to 

 believe my eggs near enough hatched to count them 

 chickens, when a confounded prairie-dog, who doubt- 

 less had been watching all my strategy, uttered his 

 shrill, quick whistle, and took a header into his burrow. 



