188 



THE GAME BREEDER 



all day long from a most acute colic, 

 which was anything but a help to good 

 shooting. 



Antelope. 



For some time after leaving the creek 

 nothing was seen until, on coming over 

 the crest of the next great divide, I came 

 in sight of a band of six or eight prong- 

 horn about a quarter of a mile off to my 

 right hand. There was a slight breeze 

 from the southeast, which blew diagon- 

 ally across my path towards the ante- 

 lopes. The latter after staring at me a 

 minute, as I rode slowly on, suddenly 

 started at full speed to run directly up 

 wind, and therefore in a direction that 

 would cut the line of my course less 

 than half a mile ahead of where I was. 

 Knowing that when antelope begin run- 

 ning in a straight line they are very hard 

 to turn, and seeing that they would have 

 to run a longer distance than my horse 

 would to intercept them, I clapped spurs 

 into Manitou, and the game old fellow, 

 a very fleet runner, stretched himself 

 down to the ground and seemed to go 

 almost as fast as the quarry. As I ex- 



pected, the latter, when they saw me run- 

 ning, merely straightened themselves out 

 and went on, possibly even faster than 

 before, without changing the line of their 

 flight, keeping right up wind. Both 

 horse and antelope fairly flew over the 

 ground, their courses being at an angle 

 that would certainly bring them together. 

 Two of the antelope led, by some fifty 

 yards or so, the others, who were all 

 bunched together. Nearer and nearer 

 we came, Manitou in spite of carrying 

 myself and the pack behind the saddle, 

 gamely holding his own, while the ante- 

 lope, with outstretched necks, went a" 

 ai; even, regular gait that offered a strong 

 contrast to the springing bounds with 

 which a deer runs. At last the two lead- 

 ing animals crossed the line of my flight 

 ahead of me; when I pulled short up, 

 leaped from Manitou's back, and blazed 

 into the band as they went by not forty 

 yards off, aiming well ahead of a fine 

 buck who was on the side nearest me. 

 An antelope's gait is so even that it of- 

 fers a good running mark; and as the 

 smoke blew off I saw the buck roll over 

 like a rabbit, with both shoulders broken. 



SHOOTING FOXES ON LONG ISLAND. 



By H. J. MONTANUS. 



Mr. A. Wischerth, Howard Voorhies, 

 Frank Rausch, James M. Ashton, Hon. 

 C. Krabbe and the writer paid a visit 

 to Middle Island Club on January 20th 

 to celebrate the eighty-second birthday 

 of our worthy honorary member, Mr. 

 James M. Ashton, of Middle Island, 

 Long Island, N. Y., who evidently had 

 arranged with Mr. Jonas Coleman of 

 Lake Gfove, L. I., to bring some of his 

 fox hounds and give the members a 

 hunt. 



On Tuesday morning a start was made 

 at 7 a. m. ; conditions were excellent 

 and in less than fifteen minutes from 

 the time the first hound gave tongue Mr. 



Reynard was on his way. Oh, such 

 music on a sharp, still and pretty morn- 

 ing can only be appreciated by those who 

 know ! Well, after chasing this cunning 

 cuss for more than an hour, he was 

 finally headed off by our young member. 

 Mr. Floward Voorhies, who registered 

 his first kill, and arrangements were im- 

 mediately made to have the pelt tanned 

 and incidentally to decorate the cozy 

 home in Brooklyn. 



Wednesday was a perfect day and the 

 members enjoyed two runs which never 

 will be forgotten. The hounds were 

 started to the east and west of Bartlett 

 Road. Once two foxes were jumped 



