ZOOLOGY. 
71 
place of abode; found abundantly, and, of game, almost exclusively on those arid and barren 
plains across which the path of the emigrant passes, it has often happened that the delicious 
venison of the antelope has been to the wayfarer not only a luxury, but for days and weeks a 
vital necessity. 
Though found in nearly all parts of the territory of the United States west of the Mississippi, 
it is probably most numerous in the valley of the San Joaquin, California. There it is found 
in herds literally of thousands ; and though much reduced in numbers by the war which is 
incessantly and remorselessly waged upon it, it is still so common that its flesh is cheaper and 
more abundant in the markets of the Californian cities than that of any other animal. 
In the Sacramento valley they have become rare, and the few still remaining are excessively 
wild. 
On nearly every day’s march, between the valley of the Sacramento and the Columbia, we 
saw either the antelope itself or its peculiar track in the sand. This track differs so distinctly 
from that of the deer as to be recognizable at a glance. The point of the hoof is very sharp, 
while the hinder part of the foot is much expanded, and each half rounded posteriorly, so that 
the imprint of the entire hoof is elegantly cordate, the track of every species of deer being 
much narrower. 
The antelope, though perhaps more fleet and timid than the deer, is not equally sagacious, 
and may sometimes be killed with surprising facility, as a single instance will serve to illus¬ 
trate : At the southern end of Klamath marsh, near a splendid spring, we remained to give 
our animals the benefit of the good water and the fine pasturage of clover and bunch grass. 
We had been traversing a region occupied by great numbers of Indians, who had rendered the 
game very scarce, and we had been unable to obtain any fresh meat for some time. In these 
circumstances, Bartee, our guide, to whom a want of venison was intolerable, mounted his mare 
and started off, vowing that he would not return without deer or antelope. The sun was just 
setting, and we began to despair of our hoped-for supper of venison, when a shout from our 
packers, who were out picketing the mules, attracted our attention, and we soon saw the old 
man, who seldom hunts in vain, slowly emerging from the forest leading his horse, which was 
loaded with four antelope. His story was this: He had made a wide circuit without finding 
game, and while on his return, some five miles from camp, he had discovered through the trees 
a band of six antelope going to a spring to drink. Knowing they would return the same way, 
he concealed himself, and, as they approached, shot the leader of the band. The remainder 
seemed somewhat surprised, stopped, and looked around, but soon resumed their march. Bartee 
was ready and fired again, killing another. While he remained concealed, they were simply 
confused by the firing, and did not offer to run away. In this manner he killed five of the six, 
when, knowing that he had as much venison as his horse could carry, he spared the other, 
which ran off only when he came up to disembowel those he had killed. 
The flesh of a young and fat antelope is delicious, but that of the older bucks is strong. The 
head of an antelope baked in the ground is regarded as a great delicacy, but to me it has an 
earthy taste that is far from pleasant. 
The hair of the antelope is very peculiar, having as a general characteristic a peculiarity 
noticed in some portions of the hair of the elk, Rocky mountain sheep, and mule deer. It is 
tubular, and exceedingly light and spongy ; indeed, so unlike the hair of most animals, that 
we hesitate to call it hair, and instinctively compare it with the quills of the porcupine, from 
which, however, it differs by an entire want of rigidity and acuteness. 
