little sugar, giving them many feedings a 
day. Even when fully grown they are not 
hardy and rarely live long in confinement. 
Fatal enteritis seems to be the principal 
trouble. 
The worst enemies of the Wild Antelope 
are first, repeating rifles; and next. Sheep, 
which destroy their winter range. But Coy- 
otes, Wolves, and Eagles kill many of them, 
especially when young. 
The adult Antelope is rarely attacked by 
Eagles. The only case I ever heard of first- 
hand was related to Mr. Harry J. Wells, of 
Clayton, New Mexico. Coyotes are to be 
feared chiefly when the latter are so hard 
pressed that they organize a hunt with a 
system of relays, and thus run down the 
quarry that is so much swifter than them- 
selves. But they kill numbers of the little 
ones before they are able to follow the old 
one. 
On their extreme northern range they 
have another dread enemy whose occasional 
ravages are thus commented on by Dr. E. L. 
Munson. ''Mr. Parotti has been in this 
country as hunter and guide for nearly 
twenty years. He tells me that the fearful 
winter of 1893, when the thermometer reg- 
istered 61 degrees below in this post [Fort 
Assiniboine, Mont.], killed off four-fifths 
of the Antelope — that they starved to death 
by thousands on account of the deep snow. 
He found after that winter, what he esti- 
mated were 900 carcasses where the Ante- 
lope had drifted into a deep ravine and evi- 
dently had no strength to get out. Before 
that time Antelope were plenty through 
here, but that winter killed nearly all off. 
While they were shot by thousands, the num- 
ber so destroyed was only an insignificant 
fraction of the total." {F. d^S., March 27, 
1897.) 
During the winter they are in mixed bands 
of all ages and sizes. In my time these 
bands were commonly ten to fifty in num- 
ber, but in earlier days, I am told, sev- 
eral hundred, even thousands, would run 
together. 
Early in spring the usual inevitable dis- 
position to scatter manifests itself. The 
separation of the sexes seems to be due to 
an instinctive dislike of each other as the 
time approaches for the young to be born. 
It becomes yet stronger as the hour draws 
near. At that time each female strives to 
be utterly alone. She avoids even the few 
remaining companions of her own sex and 
retires to some secluded spot. 
The event takes place in late May or early 
June on the Yellowstone, and the fawns or 
kids are commonly two in number. 
Their mother hides them close together 
for several days, visiting them at frequent 
intervals, ceaselessly scanning air and ]-)lain 
