The Prong- Horned Antelope 
49 
it seemed to me that such a move could 
scarcely have foiled a dangerous thrust if 
they had been fighting a deadly duel. 
I find further that in their fights the wild 
Antelope are usually struck in this way. 
Mr. McFadden tells me that he has seen 
two bucks badly ripped by a rival's horn; 
one in the throat, the other in the side of the 
neck close to the throat. 
I recall a scene, the sequel of an Antelope 
duel on the Bighorn Basin many years ago, 
in which evidently the defeated buck took the 
most serious possible view of the situation. 
It was in the October of 1898. I was 
riding across the Bighorn Basin (Wyoming) 
with Mrs. Seton and Mr. A. A. Anderson, 
when we noticed near the horizon some 
bright white specks. They were moving 
about, disappearing and showing again. 
Then two of them seemed to dart errati- 
cally over the plain, keeping always just so 
far apart. Soon these left the others and 
careered about like twin meteors, this way 
and that, then our way; at first in changing 
line, but later directly toward us. 
Their wonderful speed soon ate up the 
intervening mile or two, and we now saw 
clearly that they were Antelope, one in pur- 
suit of the other. High over their heads a 
Golden Eagle was sailing. 
On they came; the half-mile shrank to a 
couple of hundred yards, and we saw that 
they were bucks, the hind one larger, dash- 
ing straight toward us still. As they yet 
neared we could see the smaller one making 
desperate efforts to avoid the savage lunges 
of the big one's horns, and barely maintain- 
ing the scant six feet that w ere between him 
and his foe. 
We reined up to watch, for now it was 
clear that the smaller buck had been de- 
feated in battle and was trying to save his 
life by flight. But his heaving flanks and 
gaping, dribbling mouth showed that he 
could not hold out much longer. Straight 
on he came toward us, the deadliest foes of 
his race, the ones he fears the most. 
He was clearly between two deaths — 
which should he choose? He seemed not 
to hesitate — the two hundred yards shrank 
to one hundred, the hundred to fifty — then 
the pursuer slacked his s[)eed. It would be 
folly to come farther. The fugitive kept 
on until he dashed right in among our star- 
tled horses. The Eagle alighted on the rock 
two hundred yards away. 
The victorious buck veered off, shaking 
his sharp black horns and circling at a safe 
distance around our cavalcade to intercept 
his victim when he should come out the 
other side. But the victim did not come 
out. He felt he was saved, and he stayed 
with us. The other buck, seeing that he 
w^as baulked, gave up the attemj)t, and turn- 
ing back, sailed across the plain till he be- 
came again a white speck that rejoined the 
other specks, no doubt the does that had 
caused the duel. 
The vanquished buck with us stood for 
a time panting, with his tongue out, and 
showing every sign of dire distress. It would 
have been easy to lasso him, but none of us 
had any desire to do him harm. In a very 
short time he regained his wind, and having 
seen his foe away to a safe distance, he left 
our company and went off in the opposite 
direction. The Eagle realized now that he 
was mistaken in supposing that something 
was to be killed, and that there would be 
pickings for him. He rose in haste and 
soared to a safe distance. 
This incident suggests a number of psy- 
chological problems, which will be hard to 
solve if we accept certain old-time theories 
of animal creation, but which will solve 
themselves if we admit that the Antelope is 
our fellow-creature, with feelings somewhat 
akin to our own. Had one of us been in 
the place of the vanquished buck, we should 
probably have done just as he did. 
Vol. XL.— 6 
