"There's one," said Jack, "and I thought of it when I was pulling the trigger.
"They remind me a good lot of the buffalo. Look at the hump on the back, the low hind quarters, the legs with the long hair down to the knees, the shaggy coat and beard. These are all things that suggest buffalo, yet I suppose this animal here is not closely related to the buffalo. In fact, I am sure they are not; because my uncle has told me that they were antelope; but I am sure they look more like buffalo than they do like the antelope we see down on the prairie."
"You are right," said Hugh. "They look to me a good deal more like buffalo than antelope; but then Mr. Sturgis has talked to me about antelope, too; and he says that this antelope that we have here on the plains, isn't a regular antelope, but is a kind of an animal by itself, that hasn't got any close relations anywhere else in the world. He says that the real antelopes are found mostly in Europe and Asia and Africa, and that these here goats are the only regular antelope that we've got in America."
"Yes," said Jack, "that's so; that's just what he has told me, and I expect he knows."
"I reckon he does, son," said Hugh.
"Yes," said Fannin, "that's all gospel, I expect. I don't know much about these things myself, except what I've read in books, but I have read just that."
By this time the Indian had skinned and cut up two of the goats, and Fannin said: "Well, let's leave the Indians here and go on a little way farther, and see what else we can find." He picked up his shot-gun and said to Seammux: "Carry my rifle, Seammux, so that if you see any game you may have something to shoot with." Then, Fannin carrying the shot-gun, the three began to climb toward the summit, working along just below the ridge.
They had not gone very far, when close to the top of another ridge, running out from the main divide, they discovered a large billy-goat walking along the very edge of the cliff. He was some distance from them, and though they were in plain sight and made no effort to conceal themselves, he paid no attention to them. When they had come within three or four hundred yards of him, they sat down to watch him. He was feeding along, walking slowly, and stopping now and then to nip some plant which he liked. Soon he turned sharply down the almost vertical cliff, and worked along slowly and without any apparent caution, farther down, about thirty or forty yards to where grew a large broad leafed plant, which, Fannin said, the Indians reported to be a favorite food of the animal. Here he stopped and began feeding.
As they watched him, and commented on his slow and clumsy, yet absolutely confident movements, a loud hoarse call, almost like that of a raven rapidly repeated, sounded on the mountain side just above them. All turned their heads to look, and saw a flock of eight grouse standing with outstretched necks, gazing at them.
"Ptarmigan!" said Fannin. "I must have these." Loading and firing in quick succession, he shot the eight birds. "I hope they are white tails," he said. "These are the first that I have ever seen, in this part of the country;"—and he clambered up to gather his prize.