i26 Deer and Antelope of North America 



and horns of the buck looking in my direction. 

 There was no use in going back, and I dropped 

 flat on my face again and crawled another hun- 

 dred yards, until it became evident I was on the 

 rise from which the plateau sank into the little 

 hollow beyond. Raising my head inch by inch, 

 I caught sight of the object toward which I had 

 been crawling, and after a moment's hesitation 

 recognized it as a dead sunflower, the stalks and 

 blossoms so arranged as to have a V shape. I 

 was now completely puzzled and started to sit 

 up, when by sheer good luck I caught sight of 

 the real prongbuck, still feeding, some three 

 hundred yards off, and evidently not aware of my 

 presence. It was feeding toward a slight hill to 

 my left, and instead of risking the long shot, I 

 crept back out of sight until I got behind this 

 hill, and then walked up until I got in a line with 

 a large bunch of weeds on its shoulder. I crept 

 on all fours to these weeds, peeped through and 

 saw that the prongbuck was still slowly coming 

 my way. When it was but seventy yards off I 

 sat up and shot it. 



Half a dozen times I have had prongbucks 

 almost come into camp, while on these trips, and 

 have shot three or four under such circumstances. 

 When we were thus camped, so that the horse I 

 was not riding was resting, I would often hunt 

 the prongbuck in what is to me far the most 



