American Big Game in Its Haunts | Page 6

this first day of my visit to the Park I came across the

carcasses of a deer and of an antelope which the cougars had killed. On
the great plains cougars rarely get antelope, but here the country is
broken so that the big cats can make their stalks under favorable
circumstances. To deer and mountain sheep the cougar is a most
dangerous enemy--much more so than the wolf.
[Illustration: Prongbucks]
The antelope we saw were usually in bands of from twenty to one
hundred and fifty, and they traveled strung out almost in single file,
though those in the rear would sometimes bunch up. I did not try to
stalk them, but got as near them as I could on horseback. The closest
approach I was able to make was to within about eighty yards on two
which were by themselves--I think a doe and a last year's fawn. As I
was riding up to them, although they looked suspiciously at me, one
actually lay down. When I was passing them at about eighty yards
distance the big one became nervous, gave a sudden jump, and away
the two went at full speed.
Why the prone bucks were so comparatively shy I do not know, for
right on the ground with them we came upon deer, and, in the
immediate neighborhood, mountain sheep, which were absurdly tame.
The mountain sheep were nineteen in number, for the most part does
and yearlings with a couple of three-year-old rams, but not a single big
fellow--for the big fellows at this season are off by themselves, singly
or in little bunches, high up in the mountains. The band I saw was tame
to a degree matched by but few domestic animals.
They were feeding on the brink of a steep washout at the upper edge of
one of the benches on the mountain side just below where the abrupt
slope began. They were alongside a little gully with sheer walls. I rode
my horse to within forty yards of them, one of them occasionally
looking up and at once continuing to feed. Then they moved slowly off
and leisurely crossed the gully to the other side. I dismounted, walked
around the head of the gully, and moving cautiously, but in plain sight,
came closer and closer until I was within twenty yards, where I sat
down on a stone and spent certainly twenty minutes looking at them.
They paid hardly any attention whatever to my presence--certainly no
more than well-treated domestic creatures would pay. One of the rams
rose on his hind legs, leaning his fore-hoofs against a little pine tree,
and browsed the ends of the budding branches. The others grazed on

the short grass and herbage or lay down and rested--two of the
yearlings several times playfully butting at one another. Now and then
one would glance in my direction without the slightest sign of
fear--barely even of curiosity. I have no question whatever but that with
a little patience this particular band could be made to feed out of a
man's hand. Major Pitcher intends during the coming winter to feed
them alfalfa--for game animals of several kinds have become so
plentiful in the neighborhood of the Hot Springs, and the Major has
grown so interested in them, that he wishes to do something toward
feeding them during the severe winter. After I had looked at the sheep
to my heart's content, I walked back to my horse, my departure
arousing as little interest as my advent.
[Illustration: MOUNTAIN SHEEP.]
Soon after leaving them we began to come across black-tail deer, singly,
in twos and threes, and in small bunches of a dozen or so. They were
almost as tame as the mountain sheep, but not quite. That is, they
always looked alertly at me, and though if I stayed still they would
graze, they kept a watch over my movements and usually moved
slowly off when I got within less than forty yards of them. Up to that
distance, whether on foot or on horseback, they paid but little heed to
me, and on several occasions they allowed me to come much closer.
Like the bighorn, the black-tails at this time were grazing, not browsing;
but I occasionally saw them nibble some willow buds. During the
winter they had been browsing. As we got close to the Hot Springs we
came across several white-tail in an open, marshy meadow.
They were not quite as tame as the black-tail, although without any
difficulty I walked up to within fifty yards of them. Handsome though
the black-tail is, the white-tail is the most beautiful of all deer when in
motion, because of the springy, bounding grace of its trot and canter,
and the way it carries its head and white flag aloft.