The boys leaped from the wagons in an instant, while I remained to hold the horses. Ranging themselves around the circle, the three hunters every now and then, dashed headlong after the fawn as he flew past; but missed him by a rod or more every time. Our dog Landy, also, was on hand for the fun; and it was a laughable sight to see the great awkward fellow straining every nerve to overtake the little streak of animated lightning that flashed before him. Landy was a Newfoundland shepherd, and I knew that nothing could induce him to hurt the fawn if he should catch him. While I was watching the sport, and laughing at the drollery of it, all at once I heard a stamping on the other side of the wagon, and, stepping quickly around the horses' heads, I saw the old doe, and a buck and doe with her. [Illustration] As the fawn came bounding along the circle, the buck and does, bleating anxiously, darted in ahead of him, rushing right by the men and dog. Never stopping an instant, the big buck led the way, the does and fawn followed; and, before you could say "Jack Robinson," they were "over the hills, and far away." This was the antelope that we _almost_ caught. The boys came back to the wagons, thoroughly fagged out, and looking painfully silly. Again we drove along, but had not proceeded more than a mile or two, when up sprung another old doe, and ran toward Landy, stamping her fore-foot fiercely. Of course the foolish dog took after her as hard as he could go,--just as she wanted him to do; and a fine chase she led him, always taking care not to leave him so far behind as to discourage him, and make him turn back. We knew at once by her actions that she had a fawn near there; and so, while she was leading Landy away from it, we set about hunting it up. In a few minutes, I came across the little slender-legged beauty, snugly curled up under a tuft of grass. As I came upon him, he dashed out of cover with a shrill, plaintive little "baa-baa, baa-baa," and, as fawns always do in such cases, began running in a small circle. Landy, disgusted with his hopeless chase, came trotting back, and at once struck in after the fawn. This one was not so fleet as the other; and by and by Landy overtook him, and tried to stop him by pushing him over with his nose. This frightened the fawn so badly, that he made direct for Tip, who was squatting in the long grass in wait for him, and rushed joyfully into his arms. We took the bright-eyed little thing into the wagon, and by night he was so tame, that he would follow us around; and, when we lay down to sleep on the ground, I gave him a corner of my blanket for a bed. At last we got back to Thompson's log-house, which stood near the timber; and, when we went away we gave the fawn to his two little girls. I would really like to know what ever became of it. PERRY, O. LLOYD WYMAN. [Illustration] [Illustration] The Apple Tree.