Montana: Ghost Antelope

During my first season of prairie dog hunting, one constant presence out on the rolling hills of north central Montana, were the curious pronghorn antelope. Seen in herds from a few dozen to groups of perhaps a hundred or more, often the lone buck would appear as I crested a hill. At times, they were obviously interested in what I might be doing, sometimes approaching to within two hundred yards or less. Other times, as soon as I rounded a hill, even when over a mile distant from me, they took off running like I had suddenly appeared at their feet. I was looking forward to hunting them in the fall, but I did not know how to approach the, at times, unapproachable. Soon, I was to find out. A local who quickly befriended me offered to take me out opening day in his new red company truck.

Chapter 1: Where Did They Go?

The area north of the Charles M. Russell Wildlife Refuge was home to thousands of antelope, as I had regularly seen during prairie dog safaris. There was never a time,driving back and forth the 55 miles to town, when several herds were not readily visible from the two-lane highway. So opening day, when Lee showed up, I was certain the morning hunt would be short and successful. He had been hunting the area for over a decade, and he knew it as well as I had come to know it during my dog town shoots.After picking me up, we headed down the highway and turned off on the main dirt road in an easterly direction. The land was gently rolling hills, sometime with grass, but always with very aromatic sage. At times, there would be ridges and draws that were good for scouting, but remember, antelope have vision like an 8-power binocular; they can see you well before you see them.

We drove and drove and drove, but all we ever saw were small herds running away from us, and they started to run when we were still two or three miles away! “They already know hunting season is open. On the first day, the huge increase of pickups in the normally barren rolling hills, signifies to them that hunters are on the prowl,” Lee proclaimed. We stayed to the dirt roads and then started wandering off onto the two-track tire paths made down unbladed trails.

I did not want to get off road, because in addition to the ever present sage, the area was loaded with nasty low-level cactus. I learned of the cactus issue when doggin’, assuming a quick kneeling or prone position without first looking around quickly...

resulted in a knee or thigh full of nasty spines. The immediate reaction is to stand up, drop my pants, and start pulling the barbed spines out. Even if I get out all that can be seen, little barbs at the end still remain inside the tender hide, giving a heck of a rash for days, and sometimes even a mild infection with inflammation. Besides what it can do to my body, the larger spines can also puncture a car or light truck tire and result in a slow leak. That is why, at all costs, stay at least on the two-track paths.

After almost four hours of not even getting close to any antelope, Lee steered the truck off the beaten path and started driving to the edge of a ridge. I worred about the tires on his new half-ton work truck. Our new plan was to go out to, but short of, the edge of ridges and plateaus, and glass for ‘lopers in the distance. Once spotted, we'd make a plan to circle around and use the rolling hills as cover. There were no trees at all on the flats and hardly a bush big enough to use as cover. Finally, very late in the afternoon, as we slowly eased up to the edge of a plateau, we saw a small herd of a dozen or so antelope milling around at just over 200 yards distant, and slightly below us. I flipped down my bipod, and carefully looked for cactus before I laid down prone and settled in for a shot. Lee glassed carefully and picked out the best buck that was slowly feeding on the left side of the group. I was using my favorite rifle in .338 Win Mag, not at all necessary for antelope, but with 175 grain Barnes X-Bullets, it is my “do everything” hunting rifle. A slightly quartering shot, aiming for the off-side shoulder and my first antelope went down without a quiver. After almost ten hours of pursuit, success felt good.

Having seen herds and herds of antelope while driving to town, going to visit friends, and constantly when on my prairie dog safaris, I expected antelope hunting to be a sure thing, a slam-dunk hunt; but that was far from the case. When I called Lee the next day to thank him for taking me out on my first hunt, he answered with a laugh. It seems when he got up in the morning, had breakfast, and then went to the driveway to go to work in his company truck, all four tires...

were dead flat! Driving off the paths and over cactus had taken a heavy toll on his tires. He was able to get some air in them though, and make it to the nearest tire store for a new set of four tires. While his boss was a very good sport about it, I felt really bad. But Lee told me not to give it a second thought.The passenger-type tires on his truck were no match for the cactus spines. I later came to find out that the heavier ply tires on 3/4 or 1 ton pickups are pretty much impervious to deep penetration from them. So this is a warning to those considering taking their pickups or SUVs out antelope hunting. Unless you have D or E load range tires, it would be wise to stay only on the beaten paths when in pursuit of your first antelope.

later came to find out that the heavier ply tires on 3/4 or 1 ton pickups are pretty much impervious to deep penetration from them

Chapter 2: Running Lead

A week later, my brother came out to hunt with me, but still without a lot of experience,we again went out with a local friend, Burt. Gary was shooting a Remington Model 7 in 6mm Remington, using 100 grain Nosler Partitions over a hand load he had worked up. Early in the morning, we headed out down a dirt road, well off the beaten path. Oftentimes, hunting is a matter of luck, being in the right place at the right time. We had not gone more than three or four miles and were just cresting a low hill.There, off to the left, was a small herd of seven antelope, barely 200 yards distant. I was driving, Burt was in the passenger seat, and Gary was sitting in the back of my crew cab Ford. I quickly came to a stop, and told Gary to get out and take a shot off the hood. He jumped out, went forward and set up to shoot. The antelope decided they didn’t want to watch us anymore and took off running to the right, parallel to us. Gary tooks a shot at the doe in the front, but his bullet struck way behind. At the shot, the herd kicked into overdrive, and quickly disappeared around a hillside.

“Was I close?” Gary asks.

“You were way behind her. How much did you lead? I questioned.

“Maybe a foot.”

the doe would have traveled around 12-feet once you fired, by the time the bullet got to her

“Let’s do the math. At 40 mph an antelope will cover 60 feet per...

second. Using 0.2 seconds for time of flight to 200 yards, the doe would have traveled around 12-feet once you fired, by the time the bullet got to her. Your bullet struck at least a two or three yards behind.”

It was one of those moments in hunting that we all have. Early in the day, I get a great, easy chance, and I blow it. Then later in the day, as things go from good to bad, I re-live the event of the morning again and again, wishing I could go back. But that is what hunting is all about, and it's how we get better at it over time, by learning from our mistakes. Piling back in the truck, we continued down the road, crossed a two-lane highway, and headed south on a new road, towards the Missouri Breaks.

After many failed attempts to even get close to any antelope herd, we were heading up a steep hill, and decided to pull off and walk to the top. Creeping slowly until we got a view of the valley, there below us, a fair ways out, was a herd of a dozen and a half or so, feeding antelope. My brother quickly went to prone and set up his bipod. They must have seen the movement as they kicked off and started running to the right at a fairly high rate of speed. The distance was perhaps 350 yards, so knowing no good will come from this, I turned and started to walk back to the truck.

“POW!” a shot rang out. I quickly turned in time to see a doe flipping end over end!She lay perfectly still as the rest of the herd thundered off in a cloud of dust. Burt was whooping and hollering, slapping Gary on the back.

“Great shot! Where the heck were you holding?” I ask.

“Crosshairs on the top of her back, and lead her around two body lengths, but I also followed through like I was leading a clay bird with my shotgun.” Gary had always been an excellent shooter with a shotgun, rarely ever missing a bird- clay or live. We paced it out at right around 360 long steps to his first antelope. Not wanting to carry it all the way back and have blood get all over him, he said he would carry it back to the truck, and then field dress her. Knowing there was a bit of hunter pride involved, Burt and I helped get the doe up on his shoulders and followed him back to the truck.

Not yet having been field dressed, we quickly noticed that with each step my brother took, the bouncing doe was urinating on his shoulder, and then a stream was running down his back. Burt was a generally very quiet guy and had a very dry...

sense of humor. Out of nowhere, he speaks up, “If you are planning on goin’ dancing tonight with the ladies, you had best change your shirt first.”

Mystified as to why I have not shot yet

Chapter 3: Gently Guided

Every year after that, my brother made the drive out to Montana to hunt with me. The next year, for antelope season, after he got his doe, we set out one morning to find me a nice buck. Fortunately, I had secured permission to hunt on a 30,000 acre ranch about half-way between home and town. It bordered the two-lane highway and had many points of access. Entering through the gate nearest my home, we were immediately on top of a plateau that extended away from the road for a mile or more. Having had great success before skirting such features, and glassing down into the valley below, we decided that would be our plan for the morning. No sooner did we close the gate, when we saw a really nice buck at the far center of the plateau, walking slowly away, and then dropping off into the valley below. We quickly drove due south to the far left for maybe a half mile, where I got out with my 7mm Rem Mag. The plan was for me to sneak down into the valley in front of the buck, while Gary would take my truck, and go back to where we saw the buck drop down. He would try to skirt the edge of the plateau in the truck, while keeping in plain view of the buck. Hopefully, this would drive him towards me, as I sat hiding in the sage at the bottom.

I was at the top eastern edge of the bowl made by the valley. Gary, in my truck, was northwest of me at the top of the plateau- headed west, and the buck was between both of us, starting to meander to the southwest, away from the clearly visible truck up on the rim. While the buck’s attention was focused on the truck, which was only moving at idle speed and stopping frequently, I was able to slip down into the valley. There I found a six-foot wide depression that is about three feet deep amongst the sage. How it came to be, I’ll never know, but it made for a perfect ambush point. Gary was at least three-quarters of a mile away from me, and the buck was between us, but headed away from me. The plan was for my brother to slowly poke along in the truck, get slightly ahead of him, then cut in and drive the antelope back towards me. Going very slowly and pausing frequently so as to not startle the buck...