I dismounted at the bottom of the slope, and leading my horse silently up among the cacti-plants, tied him to one of their branches. I then crept cautiously 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 around them. I remembered the red blanket on my saddle. I could display this upon the cactus-bushes--perhaps it would attract them. I had no alternative; and was turning to go back for the blanket; when, all at once, my eye rested upon a clay-colored line running across the prairie, beyond where the animals were feeding. It was a break in the surface of the plain--a buffalo-road--or the channel of an _arroyo_--in either case the very cover I wanted--for the animals were not a hundred yards from it; and were getting still nearer to it as they fed. Creeping back out of the thicket, I ran along the side of the slope toward a point, where I had noticed that the ridge was depressed to the prairie level. Here, to my surprise, I found myself on the banks of a broad arroyo, whose water--clear and shallow--ran slowly over a bed of sand and gypsum. The banks were low--not over three feet above the surface of the water--except where the ridge impinged upon the stream. Here there was a high bluff; and, hurrying around its base, I entered the channel; and commenced wading upward. As I had anticipated, I soon came to a bend, where the stream, after running parallel to the ridge, swept round and _cañoned_ through it. At this place I stopped; and looked cautiously over the bank. The antelopes had approached within less than rifle range of the arroyo; but they were yet far above my position. They were still quietly feeding, and unconscious of danger. I again bent down, and waded on. It was a difficult task proceeding in this way. The bed of the creek was soft and yielding, and I was compelled to tread slowly and silently, lest I should alarm the game; but I was cheered in my exertions by the prospect of fresh venison for my supper. After a weary drag of several hundred yards, I came opposite to a small clump of wormwood-bushes, growing out of the bank. "I may be high enough," thought I, "these will serve for cover." I raised my body gradually, until I could see through the leaves. I was in the right spot.