the number--had pushed
forward ahead of the caravan. Our object was to arrive at Santa Fe a day
or two before the wagons, in order to have every thing arranged with the
governor for their entrance into the capital. We took the route by
the Cimmaron.

Our road, for a hundred miles or so, lay through a barren desert,
without game, and almost without water. The buffalo had all disappeared,
and deer were equally scarce. We had to content ourselves on the dried
meat which we had brought from the settlements. We were in the deserts
of the artemisia. Now and then we could see a stray antelope bounding
away before us, but keeping far out of range. They, too, seemed to be
unusually shy.

On the third day after leaving the caravan, as we were riding near the
Cimmaron, I thought I observed a pronged head disappearing behind a
swell in the prairie. My companions were skeptical, and none of them
would go with me; so, wheeling out of trail, I started alone. One of
them--for Gode was behind--kept charge of my dog, as I did not choose to
take him with me, lest he might alarm the antelopes. My horse was fresh
and willing; and, whether successful or not, I knew I could easily
overtake the party by camping-time.

I struck directly toward the spot where I had seen the object. It
appeared to be only half a mile or so from the trail. It proved more
distant--a common illusion in the crystal atmosphere of these
upland regions.

A curiously formed ridge, traversed the plain from east to west. A
thicket of cactus covered part of its summit. Toward the thicket I
directed myself.

I dismounted at the bottom of the slope, and leading my horse silently
up among the cactus plants, tied him to one of their branches. I then
cautiously crept through the thorny leaves toward the point where I
fancied I had seen the game. To my joy, not one antelope, but a brace of
those beautiful animals, was quietly grazing beyond; but alas! too far
off for the carry of my rifle. They were fully three hundred yards
distant, upon a smooth, grassy slope. There was not even a sage bush to
cover me, should I attempt to approach them. What was to be done?

I lay for several minutes, thinking over the different tricks, known in
hunter craft, for taking the antelope. Should I imitate their call?
Should I hoist my handkerchief and try to lure them up? I saw that they
were too shy; for, at short intervals, they threw up their graceful
heads, and looked inquiringly aroun