112 THE BOOK OF THE ANIMAL KINGDOM 



pieces by stamping upon them with quickly repeated bounds, all 

 four hoofs alighting together on the reptile's coils. 



"A Pronghorn's javelin-like fore-feet are its best weapons, though 

 the bucks — furious in their rivalry when forming their harems — 

 push one another about with their forked horns. Nowhere is to 

 be read a more discerning, intimate and delightful account of the 

 Prongbuck than in Ex-President Roosevelt's chapter on it in The 

 Deer Family, and on this point he notes : ' All the Deer are fond 

 of skulking; the Whitetail pre-eminently so. The Prongbuck, on 

 the contrary, never endeavours to elude observation. Its sole aim 

 is to be able to see its enemies, and it cares nothing whatever about 

 its enemies seeing it. 



' Its colouring is very conspicuous, and is rendered still more 

 so by its habit of erecting the white hair on its rump. 



' It has a very erect carriage, and when it thinks itself in danger 

 it always endeavours to get on some crest or low hill from which 

 it can look all about. 



' The great bulging eyes, situated at the base of the horns, 

 scan the horizon far and near like twin telescopes. They pick out 

 an object at such a distance that it would entirely escape the notice 

 of a Deer. When suspicious, they have a habit of barking, uttering 

 a sound something like ' kau,' and repeating it again and again as 

 they walk up and down, endeavouring to find out if danger lurks 

 in the unusual object. They are extremely curious, and in the old 

 days it was often possible to lure them towards the hunter by 

 waving a red handkerchief to and fro on a stick, or even by lying 

 on one's back and kicking the legs.' 



"Yet in Summer, when small scattered parties dot the plains — 

 or used to — a band would lie down during the midday hours in 

 some open valley and rest in negligent ease. More than once have 

 I ridden quietly over a ridge and thrown such a resting band into a 

 momentary paralysis. Surprised, yet hardly knowing what to fear, 

 they would spring to their feet, then, suddenly panic-stricken, start 

 off in high, stiff ' buck jumps,' making no progress and the picture 

 of wild terror. An instant later, however, gathering its faculties, 

 the band would skim away in flight, then, if not followed, halt a 

 few hundred yards off to look back. This curiosity is a strong 

 trait, and often brings Antelopes close to camp, or into a band 

 of Horses or Mules, and their liability to panic leads them now and 

 then to run right into danger. Audubon pictures their contradic- 



