A RACE FOR LIFE. 



Capt. H. Romeyn, U. S. A. 



Probably but a small proportion of 

 those who read of the wonderful 

 sandstorms and mirages of the 

 African deserts are aware that the same 

 phenomena, on almost as large a scale, can 

 be seen in our own country. Along the 

 borders of some of the streams of Okla- 

 homa, on the plains of eastern Washington 

 and Oregon on the Gila desert in Arizona, 

 and in the Pecos valley of New Mexico, 

 the sand dunes change their forms with 

 every passing wind ; and the dry and 

 shimmering plains of Kansas and 

 Nebraska, as well as those near Lara- 

 mie and on the upper portions of the 

 Rio Grande, furnish miragic views which 

 astonish and charm the beholder. Wide 

 spreading lakes tantalize the unsophisti- 

 cated traveler or hunter ; a buffalo skull 

 with a raven perched upon it becomes a 

 white steed bearing a sable rider ; the 

 cayote sneaking across the field of vision 

 a mile away assumes the proportions of 

 a lion, and, in the days of the buffalo, a 

 herd seemed often aerial nondescripts, 

 deriving sustenance from the air in 

 which they were apparently floating. 



Prior to the opening of the Kansas 

 Pacific Railway, and in fact, down to 

 the '70's, the whole of the country, lying 

 west of the settlements in Kansas, and 

 along the Platte, swarmed with game of 

 all kinds peculiar to the plains. Officers 

 of the army stationed on the routes in 

 Kansas, could at times count buffalo by 

 thousands, while standing at their doors; 

 antelope dotted the prairie in all direc- 

 tions, or, gathering in bands of hundreds 

 in the autumn, furnishing sport for the 

 hunter, as well as the finest of meat for 

 the soldier's table. 



In the timber along some of the 

 streams deer could be found, and among 

 the rocky and storm worn bluffs, bor- 

 dering other portions of the larger 

 watercourses, "black-tails," or "mule- 

 deer " repaid the toil of the sportsman. 

 There was a spice of danger, too, to give 

 a zest to the sport, and it was not cer- 

 tain that the hunter would not become 

 the hunted, if he ventured far away from 



his 'base," at the post or camp of the 

 military, or the train of wagons with 

 which he might be traveling. 



Fort Wallace was situated on the 

 Smoky Hill river, about 420 miles west 

 of Kansas City, on the line of the stage 

 road from that place to Denver, and was 

 for about three years my army home. 

 Directly across the insignificant rivulet 

 called "the river," and about two and a 

 half miles from the garrison, the steep 

 bluffs bordering the valley were broken 

 into rough, rocky defiles and canyons, 

 and in them a herd of mule-deer had fre- 

 quently been seen, during the summer 

 and early autumn of '70. No signs of 

 Indians had been seen near the place 

 for over a year, and thinking the venture 

 a safe one, I concluded one November 

 morning to try for a deer. My own hunt- 

 ing pony was not at hand, and I borrowed 

 from the corral one which had been 

 picked up on the prairie some time 

 during the season, and which would 

 stand fire without flinching. In fact, he 

 would stand anything but traveling, and 

 stand it all day ; and as for speed, any 

 good train-ox could outrun him. He 

 was warranted to endure any amount of 

 heel persuasion his rider had leisure or 

 disposition to bestow upon him. But I 

 had no thought that speed would be re- 

 quired of him that day ; and leashing 

 my dog, a powerful and speedy lurcher, 

 I started early for the haunts of the 

 deer. 



The morning was cold, and over the 

 lower grounds along the river a thick 

 fog hid most of the country from view ; 

 and I found it yet more dense in the 

 "breaks" among the bluffs. Still, as I 

 had a favorable wind, and could see a 

 short distance, I carefully picked my 

 way among the rocks, hoping to get a 

 shot at short range. As the sun rose 

 the fog became less opaque, and above 

 it I could see the highest points of the 

 bluffs, when suddenly, from just at the 

 feet of my pony, a jack-rabbit sprang up 

 and hopped leisurely away. The sight 

 was too tempting for the dog's training. 



