“Hurrah!” cried Dick, forgetting his recent fall. “Come along, Crusoe.” And away they went again full tilt, for the horse had not been injured by its somersault.
The antelope which Dick was thus wildly pursuing was of the same species as the one he had shot some time before—namely, the prong-horned antelope. These graceful creatures have long, slender limbs, delicately-formed heads, and large beautiful eyes. The horns are black, and rather short; they have no branches, like the antlers of the red-deer, but have a single projection on each horn near the head, and the extreme points of the horns curve suddenly inwards, forming the hook or prong from which the name of the animal is derived. Their colour is dark yellowish brown. They are so fleet that not one horse in a hundred can overtake them; and their sight and sense of smell are so acute that it would be next to impossible to kill them, were it not for the inordinate curiosity which we have before referred to. The Indians manage to attract these simple little creatures by merely lying down on their backs and kicking their heels in the air, or by waving any white object on the point of an arrow, while the hunter keeps concealed by lying flat in the grass. By these means a herd of antelope may be induced to wheel round and round an object in timid but intense surprise, gradually approaching until they come near enough to enable the hunter to make sure of his mark. Thus the animals which of all others ought to be the most difficult to slay, are, in consequence of their curiosity, more easily shot than other deer of the plains.
May we not gently suggest to the reader for his or her consideration that there are human antelopes, so to speak, whose case bears a striking resemblance to the pronghorn of the North American prairie?
Dick’s horse was no match for the antelope, neither was Crusoe; so they pulled up shortly and returned to their companions, to be laughed at.
“It’s no manner o’ use to wind yer horse, lad, after sich game. They’re not much worth, an’, if I mistake not, we’ll be among the buffalo soon. There’s fresh tracks everywhere, and the herds are scattered now. Ye see, when they keep together in bands o’ thousands ye don’t so often fall in wi’ them. But when they scatters about in twos and threes, an’ sixes, ye may shoot them every day as much as ye please.”
