he elk; and,
as all these animals are more valuable to the Indian hunter, he allows
the antelope to go unmolested, unless when he is hard pressed with
hunger, and none of the others are to be had.

While skinning the antelope for breakfast, Norman amused his companions
by relating how he had killed it. He said that he had got near enough
to shoot it by practising a "dodge." After travelling through the woods
for some half-mile or so, he had come out into a country of "openings,"
and saw that there was a large prairie beyond. He saw that the woods
extended no farther than about a mile from the banks of the river, and
that the whole country beyond was without timber, except in scattered
clumps. This is, in fact, true of the Red River country, particularly
of its western part, from which the great prairies stretch westward,
even to the "foot-hills" (_piedmont_) of the Rocky Mountains. Well,
then, after arriving at the openings, Norman espied a small herd of
antelopes, about ten or a dozen in all. He would rather they had been
something else, as elk or deer; for, like the Indians, he did not much
relish the "goat's" meat. He was too hungry, however, to be nice, and
so he set about trying to get within shot of the herd. There was no
cover, and he knew he could not approach near enough without using some
stratagem. He therefore laid himself flat upon his back, and raised his
heels as high as he could into the air. These he kicked about in such a
manner, as soon to attract the attention of the antelopes, that, curious
to make out what it was, commenced running round and round in circles,
of which Norman himself was the centre. The circles gradually became
smaller and smaller, until the hunter saw that his game was within
range; when, slyly rolling himself round on one shoulder, he took aim at
a buck, and fired. The buck fell, and the rest of the herd bounded off
like the wind. Norman feeling hungry himself, and knowing that his
companions were suffering from the same cause, lost no time in looking
for other game; but shouldering the "goat," carried it into camp.

By this time Lucien and Francois had a fire kindled--a roaring fire of
"pine-knots"--and both were standing by it, smoking all over in their
wet leggings. They had got nearly dry when Norman returned, and they
proceeded to assist in butchering the antelope. The skin was whipped
off in a trice; and the venison, cut into steaks and ribs, was soon
spitted