“Now, boys, you just lie down here, in the tall grass, so thet the critters won’t see yer, and wait awhile.”

Following Jerry’s instructions, we placed ourselves in the tall grass, and lying still awaited the result of the experiment.

“Yer see,” continued he, talking in a low tone of voice, “antelope’s the most curious critters in the world, ‘ceptin’ women.  Jist ez soon ez they see thet red flag, they’ll want to know what it means, and they won’t rest easy till they find out, either.”

And, sure enough, in a few moments we saw the graceful creatures, one after another, turn and attentively look at the signal.  Then they slowly walked towards it.  Then came a pause and a nibble of grass, and again, as though they could not resist the desire to ascertain what this singular thing fluttering in the breeze was, they hesitatingly came still nearer, as though they feared some hidden danger.  In this way they soon approached within easy range, and we shot five with our revolvers.

“There,” said Jerry, as the remainder of the herd finally galloped away over the plain, “you boys see what curiosity does.  Yer kin allers fetch ‘em with a red hankercher, and gin’rally by jist layin’ down on yer back, and holdin’ up yer feet.  They’re awful curious critters, them antelopes is.  I reckon we’d better quit this trail, and git them air carcasses inter camp.  What d’yer say, youngsters?”

“I declare, I forgot to fire at all!” exclaimed Ned.  “I never once thought of my pistol.”

“Ha! ha! ha!” roared Jerry.  “You’ve got the ‘buck-fever’ my boy.  I might a knowed you wouldn’t a fired; no, nor you, neither,” continued he, turning towards Hal.

“But I did fire twice, though,” said Hal.

“Le’me see yer pistol, youngster,” said Jerry; after examining it, he again burst into a loud laugh.

“Jest as I ’spected!  Every barr’l loaded.  Yer see you was so ’cited that yer forgot all about firin’.  You thought yer did, I s’pose; but don’t be too sartin next time, ’cause the fever allers takes what little sense a feller’s got, when it strikes him.”

The antelope were soon dressed; but Hal’s chagrin was so great at the thought of being so cleverly detected by Jerry’s shrewdness, that I attempted to comfort him by promising to relate my own misfortunes upon experiencing my first attack.  After supper, and while we were smoking our pipes, the boys claimed the fulfilment of my promise.

I only hope that the narrative may prove as interesting to my young readers, as it did to Hal and Ned, who heard the story with roars of laughter at my blunders.

Well, boys, I was once passing through the Sacramento range of mountains in New Mexico, in company with an old trapper and hunter, named Nat Beal.

Nat was a jovial, pleasant companion; and, in truth one of the best shots I ever saw.

While riding through one of the numerous little valleys with which that range abounds, we saw at a little distance, a magnificent specimen of a black-tailed deer.