Sept. 8, 1906.] 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
375 
All the game laws of the United States and 
Canada, revised to date and now in force, are 
given in the Game Larws in Brief. See adv. 
In the Antelope Country. 
Extracts from a sportsman’s letters from the Western 
plains. 
We rode to our buck, not with the intention 
of getting him upon our pony, for without as¬ 
sistance ' we knew that would be impossible. 
What we did intend, though, was to fasten 
our lariat about his horns and make our pony 
drag him home. Unfastening our picket pin, 
we dismounted, being careful to keep a good 
hold of the rope, so that our pony might not 
desert us, which he was anxious to do if he 
got the chance. We now fastened the end 
about the horns of the buck, then loosened the 
end about the pony’s neck, and taking the rope 
in one hand, mounted, taking a couple of turns 
with the end of it about the horn of our saddle, 
we were ready to travel. Our pony moved off 
readily, being quite content to drag his load, 
if unwilling to carry it. It is a curious fact 
that these ponies will pull readily with all their 
might in this way, when with a collar and har¬ 
ness they would not pull an old hen off her 
nest. After a short distance, we stopped, took 
our compass and carefully noted our direction. 
As to the surrounding objects, there were none, 
except the draw, and that could not be seen at 
any distance. Our intention was to proceed to 
a neighbor’s house, which we judged to be 
about five miles away, and, fortunately, toward 
home. Our object in noting our course so 
carefully was that we might be able to find 
our dead antelope on our return, something 
not easily done, even by the natives. 
Since writing the above, a friend who had 
called and looked it over, remarked, “Why not 
put a stick in the ground with a rag on it?” 
That might do, but where would you get your 
stick? One raised and living in a timbered 
country can hardly conceive of the nakedness 
of the plains. The fact that there are no ob¬ 
jects for miles is difficult to appreciate. In 
one of our first rambles alone an incident oc¬ 
curred which illustrated this fact, and the force 
of habit quite forcibly. We observed a rattle¬ 
snake a few feet in front of our horse. We 
immediately dismounted, all the while thinking 
“We will take a stick and kill him.” It was not 
until we began looking for a club that we real¬ 
ized the fact that such a thing has no exist¬ 
ence on the plains—not even a stone within 
miles of us. So we took our rifle and shot him. 
The rattles we have still. We had often heard 
it stated that an antelope could not be dragged 
along the ground without all the hair and skin 
being scraped off, so, after having dragged our 
buck about a mile, we concluded to turn him 
over and see how matters were, for we were 
doubtful to believe such a thing could occur 
on such a beautiful smooth sod. Much to our 
surprise, we found it true; all the hair and part 
of the skin was gone already. We were loth 
to leave him, so turned him over and dragged 
him a mile further on the other side, with a 
like result. As we did not wish to disfigure 
him more, we left him. We thought of leaving 
our gun standing erect against his body, with 
our handkerchief on top, as a mark to find the 
place, but concluded finally not to risk the 
chance of being unable to find it again. We 
now galloped away, after again noting our 
compass carefully, and in half an hour we 
reached the ranch we were in search of, found 
the proprietor at home, and asked if he would 
take his team and wagon arid bring in our 
game. He readily assented, but the first ques¬ 
tion he asked was, “Do you believe that you 
can go back to where they are?” We replied 
that we thought we could, and explained our 
frequent use of the compass on our way in. 
He said, “Well, you may be able to return to 
the spot by that means, but without something 
of the kind I would not give much for your 
chance of finding them again. No tenderfoot 
can ever return to the same spot on these 
plains without some kind of assistance.” 
This man had lived there about eight years, 
and knew by experience the difficulties of the 
situation. We were soon on our way, he in 
the wagon and I on my pony. We carried our 
compass in our hand, constantly directing our 
course by it, and in about an hour we judged 
that we must be near where we had left the 
buck. Our friend stood up in the wagon and 
carefully surveyed the surface of the plain in 
every direction, but could see no buck. We 
knew that this did not necessarily show that 
we might not be near it, for it is very difficult 
to detect the body of a dead animal from the 
brown grass which covered the ground, the 
color of the antelope being almost the same. 
We went perhaps half a mile further without 
result, when it began to look as if we should 
not succeed, though I assured him I was con¬ 
fident we must be near the spot. Finally after 
much searching and riding about in every di¬ 
rection, I told him I knew of one way I was 
sure to find it, viz.: ride over to the draw, about 
two miles from there, then go up it to the point of 
shooting, and take the trail left on the grass, 
where the body of the buck had been dragged. 
This I did, he awaiting my return. I found 
the trail without trouble, and rode at a rapid 
gallop along it, as it was plainly visible. I 
finally came to my dead buck not more than 
half a mile from where the wagon had stopped. 
We soon had him in the wagon, and then fol¬ 
lowed the trail back to where the others lay. 
We then returned without further trouble. 
We have before alluded to our surprise that 
an antelope does not wince or start a particle 
upon being struck by a ball. In this they seem 
to differ from all animals we know anything 
of, and, on comparing our experience in this 
respect with that of others, we found it the 
same. Why it is so, we cannot explain. There 
is something in their nature apparently differ¬ 
ent in this respect from other animals, espe¬ 
cially the deer, which will make a sudden 
spring if struck when standing still; and if on 
the run will generally make a perceptible flinch 
and flirt his tail about. Apparently the nervous 
system of the antelope is not very sensitive. 
In starting to run, they move off differently 
from other wild animals that we have been en¬ 
abled to observe. They always start in a walk, 
then trot, lope, and gallop. We never saw one 
UP A STUMP. 
Photo of bear cubs, by S. A. L. 
