COUXS/Xi; THE PKOXGHOKX. 



147 



further concealment being impossible, I dug 

 the spurs into the horse and dashed forward, 

 preceded by the pack. 



As we came into view the antelope 

 bunched, whirled and made for the opposite 

 slope ; but finding the snow too deep for 

 speed they hesitated, became confused and 

 then, at my shout, broke into several 

 smaller bunches which went off in different 

 directions. Selecting the smallest band, so 

 that the number of the game would not 

 deter the hounds from taking hold. I in- 

 stantly put the horse after them. The dogs 

 sprang forward at my lead, and the chase 

 was on. 



For a few hundred yards the horse stood 

 the pace well and even gained on the ante- 

 lope. Then, striking deeper snow, he gradu- 

 ally fell behind. In the meantime the dogs 

 were rapidly overhauling the chase, and 

 even in this short dash had cut down the 

 interval between them to not more than 

 30 or 40 yards. A doe had run into several 

 drifts, and was consequently several yards 

 behind the flying herd. She could not re- 

 gain her former position nor prevent the 

 hounds from gradually closing in on her. 



At this instant antelope and dogs went 

 headlong down into a coulee which I knew 

 circled around for several hundred yards, 

 and finally opened out on the prairie a short 

 distance from my present position. Pos- 

 sibly the antelope might run up this coulee 

 instead of crossing it — a possibility favored 

 by the overhanging drifts on the opposite 

 bank. At any rate it was the only chance 

 of getting near the chase, so I made for the 

 head of the coulee. Just as I reached it 5 

 antelope dashed out, almost under the nose 

 of the horse, running shoulder to shoulder 

 in a compact bunch. Twenty yards behind 

 came the doe. the old white hound already 

 at her quarter, while the other 2 dogs 

 were only a few feet behind. It was a 

 beautiful sight. The doe was running with 

 every muscle strained to the utmost, with 



ears thrown back, head stretched out, and 

 her great dark eyes rolling to the rear to- 

 ward her relentless pursuers. Her sleek 

 and delicately marked coat of russet and 

 white stood out in clear, contrast to the 

 dazzling purity of the landscape as her -tiff 

 legged jumps took her across my hor-e\ 

 course, throwing the crisp snow almost into 

 his face. Then came the hounds, their bel- 

 lies sweeping the snow with every leap, the 

 embodiment of swift, implacable "fate. 



From seeing them work on coyotes I 

 knew exactly their programme. At the 

 critical moment the brown dog would run 

 in and take hold just above the hock joint, 

 throwing the antelope. As the latter fell 

 old " Spot " would jump for the throat, cut- 

 ting the blood vessels and gripping the 

 windpipe, while the third dog would seize 

 the loin. Their method of tackling never 

 varied, and between them the antelope 

 would be stretched out and killed in short 

 order. 



At my encouraging shout to the hounds 

 the doe swerved away, cut up the opposite 

 bank with a final burst of speed and mo- 

 mentarily disappeared as I ran the horse 

 down and across the shallow coulee. The 

 next instant I had gained the top of the 

 slope, to find the antelope pulled down only 

 a few yards away — struggling but feebly, for 

 " Spot's " sharp teeth had already done 

 their work, and blood was spouting freely 

 from her torn throat. Dismounting has- 

 tily, the blade of a pocket hunting knife was 

 passed deeply into her neck — and the chase 

 was over. 



How, a few minutes later, the pack ran 

 down and killed a big buck antelope after a 

 long chase and a desperate struggle ; how 

 the sudden storm made me push for shelter 

 without reaching the dogs, and how the lat- 

 ter, subsisting on the dead antelope, lived 

 out several days of blizzard weather with- 

 out injury is. as Kipling would say, " quite 

 another story." 



A SPRING MORXIXG. 



MARION F. GIBBS. 



A widening brook whose water- lave 

 The tangled alders, bare and brown ; 



A tiny nest, like silvery cave, 

 With lining soft as eiderdown. 



The killdeer calls far down the stream; 



A hawk is poised in yonder beech. 

 Watching, with lazy eyes that gleam, 



A basking fish within hi- reach. 



