
} 
: 
HUNTING THE PRONGHORN 
Shooting Antelope at Long Range on the Plains of South 
Saskatchewan 
BY EVERETT DUFOUR 
N THE great ranching 
country along the 
South Saskatchewan, 
and particularly in the 
immediate vicinity of 
Pony Butte, may be 
seen, even at this day, 
hundreds of the fleetest 
of fleet game, the prong- 
#| horned antelope. Here 
fiz¢%| the sportsman whose 
¢: gl experience has been 
fy wide may find that he 
has quite a bit to learn 

of rifle shooting. 
On my trip in that country after antelope, 
two bronchos to a four-seated spring wagon, 
three saddle-horses and four rifles consti- 
tuted our outfit as we left the ranch and 
started out over the rolling plain. As far as 
the eye could reach in every direction there 
was not a bush, much less a tree, in sight, 
and the light brown billowy hills of buffalo 
grass rolled away to the horizon. 
We had driven possibly seven miles in the 
direction of Pony Butte, when suddenly we 
sighted a band of seven or eight antelope, 
standing on a hillside watching us. They 
were about 800 yards distant, and the best 
we could do was to make them run while we 
fired, until they disappeared from view 
over the hill. 
I then mounted my horse, as did two of 
the cowboys, while the other, my friend 
Elmer, remained with the wagon, and we 
rode carefully among the hills. The ante- 
lope were very wild and it was not easy to 
get closer than 700 or 800 yards, which, with 
the wind blowing hard most of the time, 
made a successful shot very difficult. Dur- 
ing the day we saw at least 300 of the fleet 
little fellows; each of us had a number of 
long shots, but without success. 
The sun was getting low, so after feeding 
our horses, and incidentally ourselves, we 
started back to the shanty, which now 
looked like a speck on the plain. The sad- 
dle-horses were tied behind the wagon and 
we all piled in. As we drove along near the 
crest of a ridge I stood up to look over it, 
and to my great surprise I caught sight of a 
band of thirty or forty antelope feeding 
quietly beside a lake. We jumped out 
quickly, two of the cowboys going around 
the side of the hill so as to get a good shot as 
the band ran by, and Elmer and I went to 
the other end of the hill, about 300 yards 
distant from the quarry, and opened fire. 
At my first shot, which missed, the band 
wheeled into line and started around the 
edge of the lake in the direction of the other 
hunters. They were now running in an old 
buffalo trail, one behind the other, and 
Elmer took what he thought to be very care- 
ful aim at the leader. When the rifle 
cracked the third one in the line fell out and 
two or three following fell over the dead one. 
As the antelope passed between the cowboys 
and the lake, they emptied their rifles at 
them, killing but one. Of course they all 
killed this one, although it was struck by 
but one shot. | 
During this first day’s hunt I had tried 
every way to get near enough to the quarry 
with my horse; had tried walking along on 
the far side of the pony, or at times had 
tried to head the antelope off when they 
would attempt to run by me, by riding at 
full speed until I saw they were going past, 
and then stopping short, jumping to the 
ground and firing. I arrived at the conclu- 
sion that the best way was on foot, for if a 
band once saw you it was almost impossible 
to get close enough to shoot with any chance 
of hitting. 
‘The two antelope we killed created quite 
a stir. at the ranch; the cowboys had been 
hunting for five days prior to my arrival, 
