We often met with the mountain goat, an animal which participates both of the deer and the common goat, but whose flesh is far superior to either.  It is gracefully shaped—­long-legged and very fleet.  One of them, whose fore-leg I had broken with a rifle-ball, escaped from our fleetest horse (Castro’s), after a chase of nearly thirty minutes.  The mountain goat is found on the great platforms of the Rocky Mountains, and also at the broad waters of the rivers Brasos and Colorado.  Though of a very timid nature they are superlatively inquisitive, and can be easily attracted within rifle-range by agitating, from behind a tree, a white or red handkerchief.

We were also often visited, during the night, by rattlesnakes, who liked amazingly the heat and softness of our blankets.  They were unwelcome customers, to be sure; but yet there were some others of which we were still more in dread:  among them I may class, as the ugliest and most deadly, the prairie tarantula, a large spider, bigger than a good-sized chicken egg, hairy, like a bear, with small blood-shot eyes and little sharp teeth.

One evening, we encamped near a little spring, two miles from the Brasos.  Finding no wood to burn near to us, Fitzgerald started to fetch some.  As I have said, his was a small wild horse; he was imprudent enough to tie to its tail a young tree, which he had cut down.  The pony, of course, got angry, and galloped furiously towards the camp, surrounded by a cloud of dust.  At this sight, the other horses began to show signs of terror; but we were fortunate enough to secure them all before it was too late, or we should have lost them for ever.

It is astonishing to witness in the prairies how powerfully fear will act, not only upon the buffaloes and mustangs, but also upon tame horses and cattle.  Oxen will run farther than horses, and some of them have been known, when under the influence of the estampede, or sudden fright, to run forty miles without ever stopping, and when at last they halted, it was merely because exhausted nature would not allow them to go further.  The Texan expedition, on its way to Santa Fe, once lost ninety four horses by an estampede.  I must say that nothing can exceed the grandeur of the sight, when a numerous body of cattle are under its influence.  Old nags, broken by age and fatigue, who have been deserted on account of their weakness, appear as wild and fresh as young colts.  As soon as they are seized with that inexplicable dread which forces them to fly, they appear to regain in a moment all the powers of their youth; with head and tail erect, and eyes glaring with fear, they rush madly on in a straight line; the earth trembles under their feet; nothing can stop them—­trees, abysses, lakes, rivers, or mountains—­they go over all, until nature can support it no more, and the earth is strewed with their bodies.