We rode on a mile further and saw a young antelope lying down in some tall rye-grass. We could just see his horns and ears, and though he appeared to be looking at us he seemed to think himself securely hidden, for he made no movement toward getting up. I told Sam to shoot this time, but he said, "No, you shoot. I live in this country and can get all the shooting I want any time. You have come a long way out here to have some fun. Turn loose on him." And slipping off my horse I knelt down to get a knee rest, but found that from that position I could not see the game at all, and was compelled to shoot off hand again. Raising up I drew a bead on one of the horns, and then lowering the muzzle to where I thought the body should be, pressed the trigger. There was a lively commotion in the grass, but the buck never got out of his bed. The ball went in at one shoulder and out at the opposite hip. On stepping the distance we found it to be only 125 yards.
And now, having in a measure wiped out the disgrace of the previous day's work and secured all the meat, skins, and heads that our pack-mules could carry, we returned to camp and the next day went back to Fort Maginnis.
These bright little creatures, though naturally timid, sometimes show great courage in defense of their young. I once saw a coyote sneak from behind a hill toward a herd of antelope. Instantly there was a grand rush of all the adult members of the band, male and female, toward the intruder, and when they had gotten in front of the kids they stopped, with bristles erect, ears thrown forward, and heads lowered, presenting a most warlike and belligerent appearance. The coyote, when he saw himself confronted with this solid phalanx, suddenly stopped, eyed his opponents for a few moments, and then, apparently overawed at the superiority of numbers and warlike attitude of his intended prey, slunk reluctantly away in search of some weaker victim. When he was well out of sight, the older members of the band turned to their young, caressed them, and resumed their grazing.
The speed of the antelope is probably not excelled by that of any other animal in this country, wild or domestic, except the greyhound, and, in fact, it is only the finest and fleetest of these that can pull down an antelope in a fair race.