THE ANTELOPE HUNT; AND MORE
The little party approached with caution the spot where the
antelopes were feeding. Rhoda was no amateur; and she advised her
friends to ride quietly, to make no quick motions, and as far as
possible to ride along the edge of the rising ground.
Of course, the wind was blowing from the antelopes; otherwise the
party would never have got near them at all. The creatures were
feeding so far out on the plain that it would, too, be unwise to
try to creep up on them behind the rocks and bushes among which the
cavalcade now rode.
"When we get somewhat nearer, we shall have to ride right out into
plain sight and run them down," Rhoda said. "That is our best
chance."
"The poor little things!" murmured Grace. "They won't have a chance
with our ponies."
"Oh, won't they?" laughed Rhoda softly. "I guess you don't know
that the antelope is almost the fastest thing that ever crossed
these plains. Even the iron horse is no match for the antelope."
"Do you mean to say they can outrun a steam engine?" asked Bess in
wonder.
"Surely."
"Then what chance have we to run them down?" demanded Nan.
"Well, there are two ways by which we may get near enough for a
shot," Rhoda explained. "I have been out with the boys hunting
antelope, and they certainly are the most curious creatures."
"Who are? The cowboys?" asked Bess.
"Yes. Sometimes," laughed Rhoda. "But in this case I mean that the
antelopes are curious. I've seen Steve get into a clump of brush
and stand on his head, waving his legs in the air. A bunch of
antelopes would come right up around the waving legs, and as long
as the wind blew toward him instead of toward the antelopes, they
would not run. So all he had to do when he got them close enough
was to turn end for end, pick up his gun, and shoot one."
"I don't suppose you girls would care to try that," Walter said,
his eyes twinkling. "But I might do it."
"Only trouble is," said Rhoda, after the laugh at Walter's
suggestion, "I don't see any brush clumps out there. Do you?"
"No-o," said Nan. "The plain is as bare as your palm."
"Exactly," Rhoda agreed. "So we must try running them down."
"But you say they are very speedy," objected
"Oh, yes. But there are ways of running them," said Rhoda. "We will
ride on a little further and then let our ponies breathe. I'll show
you how you must ride."
Nan was looking back again at the cloud on the horizon. "Isn't that
a funny looking thing?" she said to Bess.
"What thing?" asked her chum, staring back also.
"It is a cloud of dust--perhaps?"
"Who ever saw the like!" exclaimed Bess. "Say, Rhoda!"
The Western girl looked around and made a quick gesture for
silence. So neither of the Tillbury girls gave the cloud another
thought.
They came at length to a piece of high brush which, with a pile of
rocks, hid them completely from the herd of peacefully grazing
animals. Peering through the barrier, the girls could see the
beautiful creatures plainly.
"So pretty!" breathed Grace. "It seems a shame--"
"Now, don't be nonsensical," said Bess practically. "Just think how
pretty a chicken is; and yet you do love chicken, Grade."
"Softly," warned Rhoda. "We do not know how far our voices may
carry."
Then she gave the party the simple instructions necessary, and they
pulled the ponies out from behind the brush and rocks.
"At a gallop!" commanded Rhoda, and at once the party made off
across the plain.
Rhoda rode to the west of the little herd of antelopes; Walter and
the other girls rode as hard as they could a little to the east of
them. Almost at once the antelopes were startled. They stopped
grazing, sprang to attention, and for a minute huddled together,
seemingly uncertain of their next move.
The four riders encircling them to the north and east naturally
disturbed the tranquillity of the deer more than that single figure
easily cantering in a westerly direction. Swerving from the larger
party, the wild creatures darted away.
And how they could run! The ponies would evidently be no match for
them on a straight course. But as the larger number of pursuers
pressed eastward, the antelopes began circling, and their course
brought them in time much nearer to Rhoda. It was an old
trick--making the frightened but fleet animals run in a
half-circle. Rhoda was cutting across to get within rifle shot.
The breeze soon carried the scent of the pursuing party to the
nostrils of the antelopes, too; but they did not notice Rhoda. She
brought up her rifle, shook her pony's reins, and in half a minute
stood up in her short stirrups and drew bead on the white spot
behind the fore shoulder of one of the running antelopes.
The distance was almost the limit for that caliber of rifle; but
the antelope turned a somersault and lay still, while its mates
turned off at a tangent and tore away across the plain.
It was several minutes before Walter and the other girls rode up.
Rhoda had not dismounted. She was not looking at the dead antelope.
Instead, she had unslung her glasses again and was staring through
them westward--toward the slate-colored cloud that was climbing
steadily toward the zenith.
When the ponies were halted and the sound of their hoofs was
stilled, the young people could hear a moaning noise that seemed to
be approaching from the direction toward which they were facing at
that moment--the west.
"Oh!" cried Nan, "what is that?"
"Have you seen it before?" demanded Rhoda, shutting the glasses and
putting them in the case.
"Yes."
"I wish I had," Rhoda said. "Hurry up, Walter, and sling that
antelope across your saddle. Look out that the pony doesn't get
away from you. Maybe he won't like the smell of blood. Quick!"
"What is the matter?" cried Bess, while Grace began to flush and
then pale, as she always did when she was startled.
"It is a storm coming," answered Rhoda shortly.
"But, Rhoda," said Bess, "the wind is blowing the wrong way to
bring that cloud toward us."
"You will find that the wind will change in a minute. And it's
going to blow some, too."
"Oh, my dear!" exclaimed Nan, under her breath, "is it what your
father warned us about?"
"A tornado?" cried Walter, from the ground where he was picking up
the dead antelope.
"I never saw a cloud like that that did not bring a big wind,"
Rhoda told them. "We've got to hurry."
"Can we reach home?" asked Bess.
"Not ahead of that. But we'll find some safe place."
"What's that coming?" cried Nan, standing up in her stirrups to
look toward the rolling cloud.
"The wagons," said Rhoda. "See! The boys have got the mules on the
gallop. Their only chance is to reach the ranch."
"But can't we reach the house?" demanded Grace, trembling.
"I won't risk it--There! See that?"
The slate-colored cloud seemed to shut out everything behind the
flying wagons like a curtain. The breeze about the little cavalcade
had died away. But Rhoda's cry called attention to something that
sprang up from the site of the mule-drawn chuck wagons, and flew
high in the air.
"A balloon!" gasped Bess.
"A balloon your granny!" exclaimed Walter, tying the legs of the
antelope to his saddle pommel. "Go ahead, girls. I'll be right
after you."
"It was a wagon-top," explained Rhoda, twitching her already
nervous pony around. "They did not get it tied down soon enough."
"Then a big wind is coming!" Nan agreed.
"Come on!" shouted Rhoda, setting spurs to her mount.
"Oh, Walter!" shrieked Grace, her own pony following the others,
while Walter and his mount remained behind.
But the boy leaped into the saddle. He waved his hand to his
sister. They saw his mouth open and knew he shouted a cheery word.
But they could not hear a sound for the roaring of the tornado.
In a second, it seemed, the tempest burst about them. Rhoda had
headed her pony for the hills. The mounts of the other girls were
close beside Rhoda's pony. But Walter was instantly blotted out of
sight.
Whether he followed their trail or not the four girls could not be
sure.