From the high water the trail through the swamp is impassable, so I have to go round it, keeping along on the small ridges, where birch and alder grow; continuing this for about eighteen miles, and crossing several deep creeks and swamps, through which the poor mules are literally dragged, get on to higher and comparatively dry land, two miles of which brings me to the entrance of what my guide calls the desert. The distance across it, he says, is forty miles, with but one chance of water. Into this barren waste I did not think the Indians would follow, so make up my mind to push on, although my men and mules are fearfully fagged. I thought the Indians intended to pursue us to the edge of this wilderness, and when off our guard, worn-out for want of sleep, killing us, and driving off the band of mules.
I am in the very paradise of the prong-buck (Antilocapra Americana). In bands of twenty or thirty they gallop close up to the mules, halt, have a good look, and suddenly scent danger; the leading bucks give a loud whistling snort, then away they all scamper, and rapidly disappear. We shot as many as we needed, but at this time the does we killed were heavy in fawn.
The size of the prong-buck, when fully grown, is somewhat larger than the domestic sheep; but its legs, being proportionably much longer, give it a greater altitude. The neck is also of greater length, and the head carried more erect. The hind-legs are longer than the fore ones; a wise provision, not only tending to give additional fleetness, but materially assisting it in climbing steep precipices and rocky crags, up and down which it bounds with astonishing speed and security.
The back is a pale dun colour; a transverse stripe between the eyes; the lip, and each side the muzzle, and a spot beneath the ear, dark reddish-brown; the entire underparts, the edges of the lips, a large and most conspicuous patch on either side the tail, pure white. The white meeting the brown of the back about midway on the sides, forms a well-defined waving line. Horns, hoofs, and nose black. The horns (so marked a feature in the prong-buck) are placed very far back, and much compressed in a lateral direction to about a third of their height, where they give out a thin triangular bracket-shaped prong, projecting upwards and forwards. Above this snag, the horns have a shiny surface, are rounded, and taper gradually to a sharp tip, bent into a hook. The horns vary greatly in the males. I have sometimes shot them with the prong hardly developed, sometimes springing from the horn near the tip, and in others growing close to the head, where it is always uneven and warty. The female is devoid of horns, or only has them in a rudimentary condition.
The eyes of the prong-buck are black, large, and expressive, but not a trace exists of a larmier or crumen, a glandular opening beneath the eyes, so conspicuous in the generality of deer. The hoofs are narrow and acute, but no trace exists of the supplementary hoofs usually found in all ruminants, situated just above the pasterns, at the back of the legs. The ears are very long, and well adapted to catch the faintest sound. The hair is coarse, crimped or wavy; growing in a tuft on the forehead, and during summer in a mane on the neck and back of the male.
About the posterior third of the back is an opening like the tear-gland in the face of a deer, from which a musky-smelling secretion continually oozes. The animal has also the power of erecting the hair of the white patches on its rump, as a peacock spreads its tail, or a wolf bristles its back. This power of elevating, or apparently puffing-out, these snowy markings, adds immensely to the general beauty of the prong-buck. When wooing, or striving to make the most favourable impression on his harem of does, or when in defence of his wives he rushes at some intrusive rival, the snowy round patches are ‘ruffed’ to treble their natural size.
The geographical distribution of the prong-buck is rather extensive. North it is found as far as the northern branches of the Saskatchewan, 53° N. lat. It ranges over all the plains from the Missouri to the eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains; southerly into Mexico, as far as the mouth of the Rio Grande; through Oregon and California, and into Washington Territory, along the banks of the Columbia, to the Spokan river.
Their favourite haunts appear to be the grassy prairies, that extend hundreds of miles without a break through Texas and Oregon, dotted everywhere with small patches of timber. As the eye wanders over the limitless tract of prairie, these small isolated belts and clumps of trees exactly resemble beautifully-wooded islands, studding a sea of waving grass. Here the prong-buck wanders in herds of from sixty to seventy; naturally shy, approaching them is not by any means an easy matter; on the least alarm the males give the shrill whistling snort, toss their graceful heads, sniff the air, stamp with their forefeet, then bound away like the wind; the herd circle round at first, then wheel up again in tolerable line, have another look, and, if apprehensive of danger, dash off, and seldom stop until safe from all risk of harm.
There are two methods of hunting them practised by the Indians, on horseback and on foot. If the former, three or four mounted savages, armed with bows, arrows, and lassos, approach from different points, so as to get a herd of antelopes between them on the open prairie. They then ride slowly round and round the herd, each time diminishing the circle: the terror-stricken beasts huddle closer and closer together, and appear perfectly bewildered. When, by this manœuvre, the Indians have approached sufficiently near, each throws his unerring lasso, then shoots arrows at the flying herd. As many as six are often killed and caught at one circling.
On foot the crafty savage, getting the wind of the herd, crawls along the grass, and every now and then lies on his back, and elevates his two legs into the air. Attached to the heel of each mocassin is a strip of ermine-skin, which floats like a pennant. The antelopes soon notice it, stand, and look; down go the heels, and on the Indian crawls; and if the herd does not come towards him, he gets a little nearer. In a short time their curiosity tempts them to approach slowly and cautiously towards the two feet, which are performing every variety of strange evolution. Near enough, they too soon discover their error; the twang of the string and whistling arrow, that goes up to the feather-end in the chest of the foremost male, warns the others to fly, and leave their leader and king a prey to the wily redskin.