200 Antelope Hunting Thirty Years Ago and To-Day 



terested in each of the Httle band, and I 

 inquired of myself whether it was worth 

 while to shoot at and frighten them merely 

 to satisfy myself that my hand and eye 

 had not entirely lost their cunning. The 

 more I thought of it the more I hesitated; 

 and while I did not absolutely determine 

 that I would not shoot at them, I put down 

 the rifle, and took the cartridge from it. 

 And then those absurd antelope, as if 

 aware of my dubitation, kept coming 

 closer and closer, climbing the hill to- 

 ward me, until at length all the does but 

 one lay down not more than forty yards 

 from where I was. The bucks were still 

 pottering around, and I felt a little like 

 shooting one, but the meat was not ac- 

 tually needed; and at last, just before sun- 

 set, I backed away from my point of ob- 

 servation, went to my horse, cinched up 

 the saddle, and, mounting, rode back to 

 the house. I really have never regretted 

 it. 



Patience was called for when I killed 

 the largest and fattest antelope I ever saw. 

 This was in western Nebraska, on the 

 range. 



In the early days of cattle raising in 

 the trans-Missouri country, the antelope 

 fed in great numbers among the herds of 

 cattle, as, since the beginning of time, 

 they had fed among the buffalo; and in 

 those days the few ranchmen, whose 

 herds grazed on the prairies of Colorado 

 and Nebraska, depended largely for their 

 flesh food on the antelope. There were 

 plenty of deer and elk, and occasionally a 

 few buffalo to be had, but the antelope 

 were the most abundant, and, in certain 

 localities, the most easily killed of all the 

 game of those prairies. 



The killing of this big buck took place 

 in the sandhill country of Nebraska, and 

 gave me an early lesson as to the watch- 

 fulness of the antelope, the value of pa- 

 tience in hunting it, and the knowledge 

 of its habits, which might be acquired by 

 long practice. 



With my friend. Captain North, the 

 brother of Major Frank North, so famous 

 twenty-five years ago as the white chief 

 of the Pawnees, and the invincible leader 

 of the Pawnee scouts, I was riding across 

 a broad flat, beyond which high bluffs 

 rose steeph'. Suddenly against the sky 

 line, above these bluffs, we saw rise, like 

 two curving spider lines, the horns of a 



buck antelope, and my friend and I at 

 once slipped from our saddles, on the side 

 opposite the buck, and lying on the 

 ground, permitted our horses to feed near 

 us. The buck was a very large one, l)ut 

 there was no hope of approaching him 

 so long as he remained where he was. I 

 said this to Captain North, who replied 

 that we were in no hurry, and might as 

 well wait to see what the animal would do. 

 The antelope stood there for some min- 

 utes, taking a long and careful survey of 

 the country, dotted with feeding cattle 

 and horses, and then, turning about, 

 walked away from the edge of the bluff, 

 out of sight. I asked my friend if it were 

 worth while to try to creep up on him, in 

 the hope that he had stopped not far away 

 from the crest of the hill, but Mr. North 

 said, "Let's wait a little longer and .see 

 what will happen." We had sat there 

 perhaps ten minutes when the buck again 

 appeared, and once more for a long time 

 looked over the country. Then he dis- 

 appeared again. This was repeated the 

 third time, after a still longer interval, 

 and when the animal went out of sight 

 this time, Captain North said to me, 

 "Now, go and see what you can do." I 

 hurried across the flat, and climbed the 

 side of the bluff, and when I peered over 

 its edge through a bunch of weeds, I .saw 

 the old buck, head down, and apparently 

 half asleep, chewing his cud, near a large 

 doe. Aly shot was a lucky one, and the 

 buck raced by me and down the steep 

 bluff, and when I followed down where 

 he had gone, I soon came upon him lying 

 in the grass at the foot of the hill. 



It long remained a deep mystery to me 

 how Captain North knew that the ante- 

 lope would come back to look twice and 

 not three times, or how he knew that he 

 would come a second time, after we saw 

 him first. I know now that there was 

 something in the animal's action when it 

 withdrew the last time that told the prac- 

 ticed hunter what might be safely done. 

 Although I had not then wit enough to 

 observe it, I know now that the last time 

 that the antelope went away from the 

 edge of the bluft' his lowered head and un- 

 concerned walk showed that he was fi- 

 nally satisfied that no danger threatened 

 from the flat, and that for the time he 

 might leave that side unwatched. 



While antelope were formerly so abund- 



