COURSING THE ANTELOPE "WITH GREYHOUNDS. 337 



finally attracted the attention of the Antelope, and they 

 began to move away before we had decided what was best 

 to do. We had no time to parley then, and I told all hands 

 to turn the hounds loose as quickly as possible. 



Away we all went, my dogs in the lead, the local pack 

 next, and the cavalry bringing up the rear. Gee whiz! 

 how the cayuses did tear up the earth! and how those 

 natives did cuss and kick when they saw my dogs throw- 

 ing alkali dust in their dogs' eyes ! 



But it was no use; the natives and the native dogs were 

 left. The latter could run, sure enough, but they couldn't 

 stay with the thorough-breds. The only thing they could 

 see, in a minute or two, was the dust raised by my dogs; 

 and once in awhile they would get a glimpse of the Prong- 

 horns as they circled. Qn went the herd, cleaving the sod, 

 throwing gravel behind them, and shivering the sage-brush 

 in their course. We were wild with delight, and our friends 

 were blind with jealousy. 



Finally, the Antelope swung off to the right, and, as 

 usual, the stalwart Mike got in his fine work. He drew 

 down on a short cut, and it would have done your heart 

 good to have seen him run. Why, a streak of greased 

 lightning couldn't have kept in his dust. For awhile it 

 looked as though he did not see the game at all; but he 

 presently proved himself smarter than -anybody, for when 

 the Antelope made another turn to the left, he dropped -in 

 behind them, not four rods distant, and in about ten sec- 

 onds caught a fine buck — two hundred yards ahead of the 

 other hounds ! This satisfied the doubting party that there 

 were some hounds that could catch an Antelope. 



We followed the remaining five three or four miles 

 before we came in sight of them, but they were so wild that 

 we could do nothing with them; so we then gave up the 

 chase for that day, and returned to town. 



We remained there and hunted out south from town five 

 days, catching eight fine Antelope, making in all thirteen. 

 But the Hartland fellows wouldn't go with us any more; 

 they were disconsolate. The idea of a pack of tenderfeet 



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