ANTELOPE HILLS.—BUFFALO AND OTHER GAME. 
29 
allow them a day of rest. The men also need time to bathe and wash their clothing, and we 
have decided to remain in camp. Astronomical and meteorological observations go on as usual, 
and the notes of the survey are examined, reduced, and some of them hastily plotted. The day 
has been very hot; hut, as a compensation, night has brought a nortne-, with a sprinkling of 
rain. 
September 6 —Camp 36.—The norther continued, hut in a mild form, allowing the survey to 
proceed without interruption. We crossed several creeks flowing in deep, wooded ravines, and 
in one the spring wagon containing instruments was overturned, the Gray Lussac barometer 
broken, and the sextant and chronometers thrown upon the ground. The injuries they may 
have sustained will he determined by future observations. After seeing a broken swingle-tree 
replaced, and the carretela safely out of the sandy bed of the creek, which was a hundred and 
fifty feet wide, we rode on to examine the Antelope hills. These lie near the meridian ot 100° 
west from Greenwich; and, serving to mark the boundary of Texas, are sometimes called the 
Boundary hills. They are composed of sandstones cemented with lime, and are of the mesa 
form. They are about a hundred and twenty-five feet high, and capped, as Simpson describes, 
“with a table of white vesicular sandstone, eighteen feet thick, and horizontally stratified.” 
Upon the side of one was found volcanic scoria, hut it was erratic. The train moved on, Dr. 
Bigelow and myself awaiting the surveying party, which for several miles had not been seen. 
For an hour and a half we wandered among the hills, searching for specimens of rocks and 
flowers, and viewing an expanse of prairie hounded on the south by the dim oiitline of the 
Witchita mountains. The line of the Canadian appears sweeping to the north, and the trail 
we follow was made to avoid the bend. We were becoming anxious about our friends, and on 
the point of going hack for them, when they came in sight. An accident to the odometer had 
occasioned the delay. An Indian had been seen to cross the trail in front of them several 
times, but had kept at a distance. Five miles beyond the Antelope hills, we passed the sandy 
bed of a stream without water upon the surface. From the fruit that abounded in its vicinity, we 
called it Grape creek. Continuing our journey to another sandy arroyo, we followed its bank 
half a mile to the Canadian, and encamped. 
The route to-day through the Antelope hills, over prairies, and across ravines, has been dry 
and sandy. The scanty grass appeared of an earthy hue, relieved only by red gullies and occa¬ 
sional ravines, showing the foliage of stunted trees. A few pools of water were seen. But the 
valley of the Canadian, near camp, displays green grass and patches of wood. The river is 
deeper and less muddy than before. Game has become plenty. Five buffalo were grazing 
near the trail, and the hunters pursued them, but without success. Vincente, however, brought 
down a fat doe, which he proudly dragged into camp. One party fell upon a flock of wild 
turkeys, lodged in a thicket near the bank of the river, and secured several. Two prairie dogs 
and an owl were sacrificed to science, and all seemed recompensed for a weary march. A large 
tiger was discovered near camp, but he escaped. 
On the opposite side of the river is a long, white sand-bank, visible a great distance, and, 
therefore, a good landmark for travellers. 
September I —Camp 31.—After leaving camp, we crossed a succession of sandy arroyos ; some 
dry, others containing small pools or streams of water. Prairie dogs were numerous, and 
barked with great energy to warn us away from their villages. They were, however, very 
cautious, dropping into their holes whenever danger approached. 
Dr. Bigelow to-day wandered far from the train in search of new species of plants. Hear 
the river he encountered a rattlesnake of such remarkable size that he determined to secure it 
for a specimen. He therefore went back to a ravine, obtained a club of proper dimensions, and 
returned. It is the habit of this animal neither to run from men nor to attack them unless 
molested. But, as the Doctor approached, the coiled reptile gave a rattle, warning him of 
danger. Another step nearer and he leaped erect, nearly to the full height of a man ; his 
neck proudly curved, his head flattened with anger, and his protruding fangs swollen with 
