Hunting -- West (U.S.); Indians of North America -- West (U.S.); West (U.S.) -- Description and travel
Clap! I heard the bullet enter the
mark, and another buck fell on the grass after a few more bounds.
Hunting is the most cruel sport to which a man can devote himself; I
repented of my second shot, for I could make no use of the animal, as a
few pounds of the meat amply satisfied my wants. The charm lay solely in
the query, "Can you hit or not?" If this doubt be removed, it is all
over with the passion, and no one would go out sporting for the
pleasure. I must naturally see where the animals were hit, for that is
the real enjoyment to know how near you have gone to the right spot, and
hence I walked up to the bucks to choose the best of the meat for my
consumption at the same time. The one first shot was the plumpest, and
carried a pair of large beautiful horns which I regretted I could not
take with me. The antelopes do not shed their horns like stags; they are
formed more like goat's horns, and annually grow further out of the
head: they are brown and bent back at the point like chamois horns. The
form of the antelope much resembles that of the deer, but it is rather
lighter on the legs and of a brighter hue; its weight does not exceed
120 lbs. The eye of this graceful creature is certainly one of the
loveliest that nature has given to any of her creatures, and I have
often turned away from the look of a dying antelope because I could not
endure the reproach that it expressed.
I cut off the best lumps of game and went back to the dark shade, in
which Czar greeted me with a whinny of delight, and rested on my
horse-rug, refreshed by the delicious perfumes of hyacinths, jonquils,
daffodils, and narcissuses, that surrounded me. The night was warm, and
I required no fire after I had finished supper. I slept splendidly, with
Czar at my side, and the sun was high when I awoke, to find my horse
browzing on the grass within reach of his tether. I washed Czar clean,
which I never neglected when I had the chance, and rode out of my arbour
down the side of the hill, whence I could survey the country before me
for many miles.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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