166 



THE DESERT 



zle and keen eyes, is almost as well provided for 

 as the antelope. He has survived the antelope 

 possibly because he does not live in the open 

 country. He haunts the brush and the rock 

 cover of the gorge and the mountain side. 

 There in the heavy chaparral he will skulk 

 and hide while you may pass within a few feet 

 of him. If he sees that he is discovered he 

 can make a dash up or down the mountain in 

 a way that astonishes. Stones, sticks, and brush 

 have no terror for him. He jumps over them 

 or smashes through them. He will bound 

 across a talus of broken porphyry that will cut 

 the toughest boots to pieces, striking all four 

 feet with every bound, and yet not ruffle the 

 hair around his dew claws ; or he will dash 

 through a tough dry chaparral at full speed 

 without receiving a scrape or a cut of any kind. 

 The speed he attains on such ground aston- 

 ishes again. His feet seem to strike rubber in- 

 stead of stone ; for he bounds like a ball, de- 

 scribes a quarter circle, and bounds again. The 

 magazine of your rifle may be emptied at him -, 

 and still he may go on, gayly cutting quarter 

 circles, until he disappears over the ridge. He 

 is one of the hardiest of the desert progeny. 

 The lack of water affects him little. He browses 



