as the house has so very little in it. Still, I always feel rebellious
when anything comes up to interfere with my rides, no matter how
pleasant it may be. There have been a great many antelope near the
post of late, and we have been on ever so many hunts for them. The
greyhounds have not been with us, however, for following the hounds
when chasing those fleet animals not only requires the fastest kind of
a horse and very good riding, but is exceedingly dangerous to both
horse and rider because of the many prairie-dog holes, which are
terrible death traps. And besides, the dogs invariably get their feet
full of cactus needles, which cause much suffering for days.

So we have been flagging the antelope, that is, taking a shameful
advantage of their wonderful curiosity, and enticing them within rifle
range. On these hunts I usually hold the horses of the three officers
and my own, and so far they have not given me much trouble, for each
one is a troop-trained animal.

The antelope are shy and wary little creatures, and possess an
abnormal sense of smell that makes it absolutely necessary for hunters
to move cautiously to leeward the instant they discover them. It is
always an easy matter to find a little hill that will partly screen
them--the country is so rolling--as they creep and crawl to position,
ever mindful of the dreadful cactus. When they reach the highest point
the flag is put up, and this is usually made on the spot, of a red
silk handkerchief, one corner run through the rammer of a Springfield
rifle. Then everyone lies down flat on the ground, resting on his
elbows, with rifle in position for firing.

Antelope always graze against the wind, and even a novice can tell
when they discover the flag, for they instantly stop feeding, and the