The senses of the antelope are unusually developed. Their sight is exceedingly keen and their hearing very acute. Their sense of smell is so well developed that no danger can possibly approach from the windward side. When a herd is feeding, sentinels are placed on the outskirts to scent any impending danger, and to give due warning to the herd. Their curiosity is one of their most peculiar qualities and seems to overshadow every other sense. For a number of years this graceful animal has been considered royal game for the sportsman and a good round-up of antelopes is considered a great achievement among hunters. Mr. G. O. Shields, in his interesting book, "Hunting in the Great West," very vividly describes a hunt for antelopes, and we cannot better illustrate the peculiarities of the animal than by giving his pen sketch: "We had heard from some ranchmen along the way that the buffalo herd was at this time grazing about fifteen to twenty miles up the Big Porcupine, and knowing that antelopes are nearly always found hanging on the outskirts of every large herd of bison, we were on the look-out for them, for it would not seem at all strange to find them near the stage trail on which we were traveling. We scanned the country closely with the field glass and were finally rewarded by seeing a number of small white spots on the dead grass away up the Porcupine, that seemed to be moving. We rode toward them at a lively trot for perhaps a mile, and then stopped to reconnoitre again. From this point we could plainly distinguish them, though they looked to be about the size of jack rabbits. We again put the rowels to our donkeys and rode rapidly up to within about a mile of them, when we picketed our animals in a low swale, took out our antelope flag--a piece of scarlet calico about half a yard square--attached it to the end of my wiping stick, and were ready to interview the antelopes.