HUNTING THE ANTELOPE BY THEODORE ROOSEVELT I (Copyright, IS.SS. by (;. P. Putnam's Bon7i. Published under a: ran&cnicnt with G. 1' Putnam's Sons, New York and London, j Vi 11X <; the morning I I ■ $ came in sight of several I | small hands or pairs of if i i« Minn antelope. Most of them fore 1 saw Uiein, anil after watching me with intense curiosity as long as 1 was in sight and at a distance, made off at once as soon as I went into a hollow or appeared to be approaching too near. Twice, in scanning the country narrow ly with the glasses, froni behind a shel tering divide, bands of prong-horn were seen that had not discovered rue. In each case the horse was at once left to graze, while I started off after the game, nearly a mile distant. For the first half mile I could walk upright or go along half stooping; then, as the distance grew closer, I had to crawl on all fours and keep behind any little broken bank, or take advantage of a small, dry watercourse; and toward the end work my way llat on my face, wriggling like a serpent, using every stunted sagebrush or patch of cactus as a cover, bareheaded under the blaz ing sun. In each case, after nearly an hour's irksomv, thirsty work, the stalk failed. One band simply ran off with out a second's warning, alarmed at some awkward movement on my part, and without giving a chance for a shot. In the other instance, while still at very long and uncertain range, 1 heard the sharp barking alarm-note of one of the prong-horn; the whole band in stantly raising their heads and gazing intently at their would-be destroyer. They were a very long way off; but. seeing it was hopeless to try to get nearer I rested my rifle over a little mound of earth and tired. The dust came up in a puff to one side of the nearest antelope; the whole band took a few jumps and turned again; the second shot struck at their feet, and they went off like so many race-horses, being missed again as they ran.l sat up by a sage-brush thinking they would of course not come back, when to my surprise I saw them wheel round with the precision of a cavalry squadron, all in line and fronting me, .he white and brown markings on their heads and throats showing like the facings on soldiers' uniforms; and then back they came charging up till again within long range, when they wheeled their line as if on a pivot and once more made off, this time for good, not heeding an ineffectual fusillade from the Winchester. Antelope often go through a series of regular evolutions, like so many trained horsemen, wheeling, turning, baiting, and running as if under com mand; and their coming back to again Only b\j Jmntic striiyijh:n and floundering we mnnwjed to yet over. run the (as it proved very harmless) gauntlet of my fire was due either to curiosity or to one of those panicky freaks which occasionally seize those ordinarily wary animals, and cause them to run into danger easily avoid ed by creatures commonly much more readily approached than they are. 1 had tired half a dozen shots without effect; but while no one ever gets over his feeling of self indigna tion at missing an easy shot at close quarters, any one who hunts antelope and is not of a disposition so timid as never to take chances, soon learns that ho has to expect to expend a good deal of powder and lead before bag ging his game. By mid-day Ave readied a dry creek and followed up its course for a mile or so, (ill a small spot of green In the side of a bank showed the presence of water, a little pool of which lay under neath. The ground was so rotten that it was with difficulty I could get Mani tou down where he could drink; but at last both of us satisfied our thirst, and he was turned loose to graze, with 's saddle off, so as to cool his back, S '--v-t- J " I v— /' / • »u*A \ ■ / \ VV y* it and I. af eating a I. face on the ground- !'. • shade of any sort near an I <! >.:o, t:. til a couple of hours' rest ,::;d i'tv; had put the horse in g;>od trim for the afternoon ride. When it came to crossing over the dry creek on whose bank we had rested, we almost went down in a quicksand, and it was only by frantic struggles and flounderings that we managed to get over. On account of these quicksands and mud-holes, crossing the creeks on the prairie is often very disagreeable work. Even when apparently perfectly dry the bottom may have merely a thin crust of hard mud and underneath a fathomless bed of slime. If the grass appears wet and with here and there n few tussocks of taller blades in it, It Is well to avoid it. Often a man may have togo along a creek nearly a mile before he can find a safe crossing, or else run the risk of seeing his horse mired hard and fast. When a horse is once In a mud-hole it will perhaps so exhaust itself by its first desperate and fruitless struggle that It is almost impossible to get it out. Its bridle and saddle have to be taken off; if another horse is along the lariat is drawn from the pommel of the latter's saddle to the neck of the one that is in. and it is hauled out by main force Otherwise a man may have to work half a day, fixing the horse's legs in the right position and then taking it l.y the forelock and endeavoring to get it to make a plunge; each plunge bring ing it perhaps a few inches nearer the firm ground. Quicksands are even more dangerous than these mud-holes, as, if at all deep, a creature that can not get out immediately is sure to be speedily engulfed. Many parts of the Little Missouri are impassable on ac count of these quicksands. Always in crossing unknown ground that looks dangerous it is best to feel your way very cautiously along and, it possible, to find out some cattle trail or even game trail which can be followed. For some time after leaving the creek nothiug was seen; until, on com ing over the crest of the next great divide, I came in sight of a baud of six or eight prong-horn about a quar ter of a mile off to my right hand. There was a slight breeze from the southeast, which blew diagonally across my path towards the antelopes. The latter, after staring at me a min ute, as I rode slowly on, suddenly started at full speed to run directly up wind, and therefore in a direction that would cut the line of my course less than half a mile ahead of where I was. Knowing that when antelope begin running iu a straight line they are very hard to turn, and seeing that they would have to run a longer dis tance than my horse would to inter cept them, I clapped spurs into Maui tou, aud the game old fellow, a very lleet runner, stretched himself down to the ground and seemed togo almost as fast as the quarry. As 1 had ex pected, the latter, when they saw me running, merely straightened them selves out and went on, possibly even faster than before, without changing the lino of their flight, keeping right up wind. Both horse and antelopo fairly flew over the ground, their courses being at an angle that would certainly bring them together. Two of the antelopo led, by some fifty yards or so, the others, who were all bunched together. Nearer and nearer we came, Manitou, in spite of carrying myself and the pack behind the sad dle, gamely holding his own, while the antelope, with outstretched necks, went at an even, regular gait that offered a strong contrast to the spring ing bounds with which a deer run. At last the two leading animals crossed the line of my flight ahead of me; when I pulled short up, leaped from Manitou's back, and blazed into the band as they went by not forty yards off, aiming well ahead of a line buck who was on the side nearest me. An antelope's gait is so even that it offers a good running mark; and as the smoke blew off I saw the buck roll over like a rabbit, with both shoulders broken. I then emptied the Winchester at the rest of tiie band, breaking one hind log of a young buck. Hastily cut ting the throat of, and opening, the dead buck, 1 again mounted and start ed off after the wounded one. But, though only on three legs, it went as tonishingly fast, having had a good start; and after following it over a mile I gave up the pursuit, though 1 had gained a good deal; for the heat was very great, and I did not deem it well to tire the horse at the beginning of the trip. Returning to the carcass, i cut off the hams and strung them be side the saddle; an antelope is so spare that there is very little more meat on the body. This trick of running in a straight line is another of the antelope's pecul iar characteristics which frequently lead it into danger. Although with so much sharper eyes than a deer, ante lope are in many ways far stupider animals, more like sheep, and they especially resemble the latter In their habit of following a leader, and in their foolish obstinacy in keeping to a course they have once adopted. If a horseman starts to head off a deer the latter will always turn long be- CAMERON COUNTY PRESS, THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1908. fore he has come within range, bu quite often s\u untelope will merely In crease his speed and try to pass a hear of his l'oe. Almost always, however, one if alone will keep out of gunshot owing to the speed at which lie goes, but if there are several in a band which is well : irung out. the leadei only cares for his own safety and passes well ahead himself. The oth ers follow like sheep. wi;!»ont turning in the least fro::i the !i:i • the I:vst fol lowed, and thus may pwithin close range. If the leader bo;:;;ds into thr air, those following will often g( through exactly the same itions; and if he turns, the others are very apt ti each in succession run up and turn ii the same place, unless the whole bain! are manoeuvring together, like a squadron of cavalry under orders, a* has already been spoken of. After securing the buck's hams ant head (the latter for the sake of Hit horns, which were unusually long am fine), 1 pushed rapidly on without stop ping to hunt, to reach some large creeli which should contain both wood ant water, for even in summer a fire adds greatly to the comfort and cosiness ol a night camp. When the sun had nearly set we went over a divide and came in sight of a creek fulfilling tin / N Nearer and nearer we came. required conditions, it wound its way through a valley of rich bottom land, cotton-wood trees of no great height or size growing in thick groves alonp its banks, while its bed contained many deep pools of water, some of it fresh and good. I rode into a great bend, with a grove of trees 011 its right and containing excellent feed. Mani tou was loosed, with the lariat round ilia neck, to feed where lie wished until I went to bed, when he was to be taken to a place where the grass was thick and succulent, and tethered out for the night. There was any amount of wood with which a fire was started for cheerfulness, and some of the coals were soon raked off apart to cook over. The horse blanket was spread 011 the ground witli the oil skin over it as a bed. underneath a spreading cotton-wood tree, while the regular blanket served as covering The metal cup was soon filled with water and simmering over the coals to make tea, while an antelope steak was roasting 011 a forked stick. Breaking camp is a simple operation for one man; and but a few minutes after breakfast Manitou and I were off. I headed the horse towards the more rolling country where the prairies begin to break off into the edges of the Bad Lands. Several bands of an telope were seen, and I tried one un successful stalk, not being able to come within rifle range; but towards evening, when only about a mile from a wooded creek 011 whose banks I In tended to sleep, I came across a soli tary buck, just as I was topping the ridge of the last divide. As I was keeping a sharp lookout at the time, I reined in the horse the in stant the head of the antelope came in sight, and jumping off crept up till I could see his whole body, when I drop ped on my knee and took steady aim. no was a long way off (three hundred yards by actual pacing), and not hav ing made out exactly what we were he stood still, looking intently in oui direction and broadside to us. I held well over his shoulder, and at the re port lie dropped like a shot, the ball having broken his neck. It was a very good shot; the best I ever made at antelope, of which game, as already said, I have killed but very few in dividuals. Taking the hams and sad dle I rode 011 down to the creek and again went into camp among timber. Thus 011 this trip I was never suc cessful In outwitting antelope on the several occasions when I pitted my craft and skill against their wariness and keen senses, always either failing to get within range or else missing them; but nevertheless I got two by taking advantage of the stupidity and curiosity which they occasionally show. When the neighbors call at his house a boy notices that they all laugli heartily when his father tells how he used to steal watermelons when he was a boy, but the boy remembers that when he tried It Ills father whipped fhim for stealing.—Atchison Globe. HUNTING THE WjACK"tailed DEER Br | THEODORE ROOSEVELT fCopyriijlit. ISS;">. by G. I*. Putnam's Sons. Published under arrangement with G. P. Putnam's Suns, Now York and London. J rrr-n I'luelMail's great ctirl- I H Jsity is OIK' of the disad- H B Vi| ntages under which it Lwno**i>rw!raJ labors in the fierce strug ■ o l' existence, com pared to the white-tail. The latter, when star tled, does not often stop to look round: but the former will generally do so. The tirst black-tail 1 ever killed was obtained owing solely to this pe culiarity. I had been riding up along the side of a brushy coulie, when a tine buck started out some thirty yards ahead. Aiihough so close, my first shot, a running one, was a miss; when a couple of hundred yards off, on the very crest of the spur up which he had run.he stopped and turned partially round. Firing again from a rest, the bullet broke his hind leg far up and went into his body. Off he went on three legs, and 1 after him as fast as the horse could gallop. lie went over the spur ami down into the valley of the creek from which the coulie branched up, In very bad ground. My pony was neither fast nor sure footed. but of course in half a mile ' JETe and t urmsd. overhauled the three legged deer, which turned short off and over the side of the hill flanking the valley. Instead of running right up on it i foolishly dismounted and began firing; after the lirst shot—a miss—it got be hind a boulder hitherto unseen, and thence over the crest. The pony meanwhile had slipped its hind leg into the rein; when, after some time, 1 got it out and galloped up to the ridge, the most careful scrutiny of which my practised eyes were capa ble failed to discover a track on the dry ground, hard as granite. A day or two afterward the place where the carcas,s lay was made known by the vultures, gathered together from all parts to feed upon it. When tired at from a place of hid ing, deer which have not been accus tomed to the report of a gun will often appear confused and uncertain what to do. On one occasion, while hunting in the mountains, I saw an old buck with remarkably large horns, of curi ous and beautiful shape, more sym metrical than in most instances where the normal form is departed from. The deer was feeding in a wide, gently sloping valley, containing no cover from behind which to approach him. We were in no need of meat, but the antlers were so fine that I felt they justified the death of their bearer. After a little patient waiting, the buck walked out of the valley, and over the ridge on the other side, moving up wind; I raced after him, and crept up behind a thick growth of stunted ce dars, which had started up from among some boulders. The deer wai about a hundred yards off, down in the valley. Out of breath, and over confident, I fired hastily, overshooting 'him. The wind blew the smoke back away from the ridge, so that lie saw -iothing, while the echo prevented his placing the sound. Ho took a couple of jumps nearer, when lie stood still and was again overshot. Again he took a few jumps, and the third shot went below him; and the fourth just behind him. This was too much, and away he went. In despair I knelt down (I had been firing offhand), took a steady aim well-forward 011 his body, and fired, bringing him down, but with small credit to the shot, for the bullet had gone into his hip, para lyzing his hind-quarters. The antlers are the finest pair I ever got. and form a magnificent ornament for the hall; but the shooting is hardly to be re called with pleasure. Still, though certainly very bad, it was not quite as discreditable as the mere target shot would think. I have seen many a crack marksman at the target do qftlte R ~~V •Nb 112 \' JV . -v W'7 i ' ! L | as bail missing when out in the field, and ilwt not oik*', but again and again. I have never made big bags myself, for I rarely hunt except for a fine head or when v.e need meat, and it' it can be avoided do not shoot at fawns or does: so the greatest number I have ever killed in a day was three. This was iafe one November, on an occasion when our larder was running low. My foreman and I, upon discovering this fact, determined to make a trip next day back in the broken country, away from the river. We breakfasted hours before sunrise, and then mounted our horses and rode up the river bottom. The bright prairie moon was at the full, and was sunk In the west till it hung like a globe of white fire over the long row of jagged bluffs that rose from across the river, while its beams brought into fantastic relief the peaks and crests of the buttes upon our left. The valley of the river itself was in partial darkness, and the stiff, twisted branches of the sage brush seemed to take on uncanny shapes as they stood in the hollows. The cold was stinging, and we let our willing horses gallop with loose reins, their hoofs ringing 011 the frozen ground. After going up a mile or two along the course of the river we turned off to fo'Jow tlie bed of a large dry creek. At its uiouth was a great space of ground much cut up by the hoofs of the cattle, which was in summer over flowed and almost a morass; but now the frost-bound earth was like Wrin kled irou beneath the horses' feet. Be hind us the westerning moon sank down out of sight; and with 110 liglfl but that of the stars, we let our horses thread their own way lip the creek bot tom. When we had gone a couple of miles from the river the sky in front of our faces took on a faint grayish tinge, the forerunner of dawn. All in the valley was yet dark when we reached the place where the creek be gan to split up and branch out Into the various arms and ravines from which it headed. We galloped smartly over the divide into a set of coulies and valleys which ran into a different creek, and selected a grassy place where there was good feed to leave the horses. My companion picketed ills; Manitou needed 110 picketing. The tops of the hills were growing rosy, but the sun was not yet above the horizon when we started off, with our rifles on our shoulders, walking in cautious silence, for we were in good ground and might at any mo ment see a deer. Above us was a plateau of some size, breaking off sharply at the rim Into a surrounding stretch of very rough and rugged coun try. It sent off low spurs with notch ed crests into the valleys round about, and its edges were indented with steep ravines and half circular basins, their sides covered with clusters of gnarled and wind-beaten cedars, often gathered Into groves of some size. The ground was so broken as to give excellent cover under which a man could ap proach game unseen. At last, just as the sun had risen, we came out by the mouth of a deep ravine or hollow cut in the flank of the plateau, with steep, cedar-clad sides; and on the crest of a jutting spur not more than thirty yards from where I stood, was a black-tail doe, half facing me. I was in the shadow, and for a moment site could not make me out, and stood motionless with her head turned toward me and her great ears thrown forward. Dropping on my knee, I held the rifle a little back of her shoulder—too far back, as it proved, as she stood quartering and not broadside to me. No fairer chance could ever fall to the lot of a hunter; but, to my intense chagrin, she bound ed off at the report as if unhurt, disappearing instantly. My compan- j ion had now come up, and we ran up j a rise of ground, and crouched down j beside a great block of sandstone, in a position from which we overlooked the whole ravine or hollow. After some minutes of quiet watchfulness, we j heard a twig snap—the air was so still ! we could hear anything—some rods j up tlie ravine, but below us; and im- j mediately afterward a buck stole out ! of the cedars. Both of us fired at j once, and with a Convulsive spring lie j rolled over backward, one bullet hav- \ ing gone through his neck, and the ; other—probably mine—having broken a hind leg. luyncdiately afterward, another buck broke from the upper edge of the cover, near the top of the plateau, and, though I took a hurried shot at him, bounded over the crest, 1 and was lost to sight. We now determined togo down into | the ravine and look for the doe, and as there was a good deal of snow in the j bottom and under the trees, we knew we could soon tell if she were wound- 1 ed. After a little search we found her ; track, and walking along it a few yards, came upon some drops and then a splash of blood. There being no need to hurry, we first dressed the ; dead buck—a fine, fat fellow, but with \ small misshapen horns—and then took up the trail of the wounded doe. Here, ( however. I again committed an error, j and paid too much heed to the trail | and too little to the country round about: and while following it with ray eyes down on the ground In a place 1 where It was faint, the doe got up some distance ahead and to one side of me, and bounded of.' round a cornel of the ravine. The bed where she had lain was not very bloody, but from the fact of her having stopped so soon, I was sure she was badly wounded. However, after sin- pot out of the snow the ground was as hard as tllnt, and it was impossible to track her; the val ley soon took a turn, and branched into a tangle of coulies and ravines. I deemed it probable that she would not go up hill, but would run down the course of Ihe main valley; but as il was so uncertain, we thought it would pay us best t<> look for a new deer. Our luck, however, seemed —very de servedly to have ended. We tramped on, as swiftly as was compatible with quiet, for hour after hour; beating through ihe valleys against the wind, and crossing the brushy heads of tin ravines, sometimes close together, and sometimes keeping about a hundred yards apart, according to the nature of the ground. When we had searched all through the country round the head of the creek, into which we had come down, we walked over to the next, and went over it with equal care and pa tience. The morning was now well advanced, and we had to change out method of hunting. It was no longei likely that we should find the deer feeding or in the open, and Instead wc looked for places where they might be expected to bed, following any trails that led Into thick patches of brush or young trees, one of us then hunting through the? patch while the other kept watch without. Doubtless we must have passed close to more than oni (leer, and doubtless others heard us and skulked off through the thick cover; but, although we saw plenty ol signs, we saw neither hoof nor halt of living thing. We lunched at the foot of a great clay butte, where there was a bed oi snow. After lunch we hunted until tlu shadows began to lengthen out, wher we went back to out - horses. The buck was packed behind good old Manitou who can carry any amount, of weight at a smart pace, and does not care at all !f a strap breaks and lie finds hit load dangling about his feet, an event that reduces most horses to a state of frantic terror. As soon as loaded wt rode down the valley into which the doe had disappeared in the morning one taking each side and looking inte every possible lurking place. Tbt odds were all against our finding anj trace of her; but a hunter soon learns that he must take advantage of every chance, however slight. This time wt were rewarded for our care; for aftei riding about a mile our attention was attracted by a white patch in a clumr of low briars. On getting oft and look ing in it proved to lie the white rumj of the doe, which lay stretched oul inside, stark and stiff. The ball hac' gone in too far aft and had come out on the opposite side near her hip, mak ing a mortal wound, but one which al lowed iter to run over a mile befort dying. It was little more than an ac cident that we in the end got her; ant my so nearly missing at such ahon The buck noB packed behind. range was due purely to carelessness and bad judgment. Neither of my shots had so far doni me much credit; but at any rate I hac learned where the error lay, and this is going a long way toward correcting it. I kept wishing that I could get an other chance to sec if I had not prof /ted by my lessons; and before w< reached home my wish was gratified Wo were loping down a grassy valley dotted with clumps of brush, fhe wind blowing strong in our faces, and dead ening the noise made by the hoofs or the grass. As we passed by a piece oi broken ground a yearling tflack-tai buck jumped into view and canteret! away. I was off Manitou's back in ar instant. The buck was moving slowly and was evidently soon going to stoi and look round, so I dropped on one knee, with my rille half raised, and waited. When about sixty yards ofl be halted and turned sideways to me offering a beautiful broadside shot. 1 aimed at the spot just behind the shoul der and felt I had him. At the report he went oft', but With short, weak bounds, and I knew he would not gc far; nor did he, but stopped short swayed unsteadily about, and went over on bis side, dead, the bullet cleai through bis body.
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