While thus enjoying themselves, the eyes of all were attracted to some distant objects upon the prairie.
“Ho!” exclaimed François, “what a string of wolves!”
Wolves were no unusual sight, and even at that moment several were sitting upon the prairie, not more than two hundred yards from the camp. They were those that had followed the party on their march, having kept along with it for days.
“The animals we see, yonder, are not wolves,” joyfully added Basil. “They are better than that, I fancy—they are deer!”
“No, brother,” rejoined Lucien, “they are antelopes.”
This announcement caused both Basil and François to spring to their guns. Basil was particularly anxious to bring down an antelope, for he had never killed one. In fact, he had never seen one, as this animal is not met with near the Mississippi. Strange to say, its favourite range is the arid deserts that lie near the foots of the Rocky Mountains, where there is but little grass, and less water. In some of these it is the only ruminating animal, of any considerable size, to be met with. It is often found so far from water, that some naturalists have asserted it can live without this necessary element. They forget that what to them appears far from water, is to the antelope but a run of a few minutes, or rather I should say, a flight—for its bounding speed resembles more the flight of a bird than the gallop of a four-footed creature.
Antelopes differ but little from deer. The latter want the gall-bladder, which all antelopes have. Another distinction is found in the horns. The deer’s horns are composed of a solid bony substance, which differs from true horn. The horns of the antelope are more like those of a goat. These are the principal distinctions. In most other respects deer and antelopes are alike. Naturalists say there is but one species of antelope in North America—the prong-horned (Antilope Americana). When the fauna of Mexico has been carefully examined, I think another will be found.
It is only upon the great prairies of the far west that the prong-horned antelope is met with; and there it is a most shy and timid creature, allowing the hunter only to approach it by cunning and stratagem. A herd is sometimes hunted by the Indians into a “pound,” or “surrounded;” but even then their fleetness often enables them to escape; and so laborious an undertaking is it to capture them thus, that the plan is but seldom adopted, where any other game can be obtained. The easiest mode of taking the antelope is when it is found attempting to cross a river—as its slender limbs and small delicate hoofs render it but a poor swimmer. The Indians sometimes destroy whole herds while thus endeavouring to swim across the great streams of the prairies.
Although so shy, the antelope is as inquisitive as mother Eve was; and will often approach its most dangerous enemy to satisfy its instinct of curiosity. Our party were destined to witness a singular illustration of this peculiarity.
Basil and François had seized their guns, but did not attempt to move from the spot. That would be of no use, they judged; as there was not even a bunch of grass to shelter them in the direction whence the antelopes were approaching. They sat still, therefore, in hopes that the animals were on their way to the spring, and would come nearer of their own accord. In this conjecture the boys were right. The herd, about twenty in all, came on over the prairie, heading directly for the butte. They walked in single file, following their leader like Indians on a war-path! They were soon so near, that the hunters could distinguish every part of their bodies—their yellow backs—their white sides and bellies—the short erect manes upon their necks—their delicate limbs—their long pointed muzzles. They could even perceive the little black spots behind their cheeks, which emit that disagreeable odour—as with the common goat—and on account of which the hunting-trappers, in their unromantic phraseology, have given the name of “goats” to these most graceful animals.