Where I live there are more pronghorn than there are people.
I am just as thrilled to see antelope running on the prairie as I am to see the wild horses. I often imagine a great herd of Buffalo moving across the Divide Basin, along with the pronghorn, like it used to be.
The antelope survived.
An extension of the University of Wyoming, Casper College sits just below the mountains on the edge of town. In spring I can park right next to the Fine arts building, sit in my car and watch groups of pronghorn dig their noses for new sprouts under what little snow is left.
While out scouting bands of Mustangs throughout Wyoming, I've been lucky enough to see large antelope herds, as they gather together in the winter time. I've seen them race across the Basin at top speed and it is one of the most astonishing sights to behold.
When I read his book RAISING WILD, Michael P. Branch points out something about antelope that completely amazes me;
"The pronghorn winter herd displays the skill of being synchronized to a degree of precision. When the herd moves across the land, it exhibits a 97 percent synchrony of gait, which means that whether there are twenty pronghorn or two hundred, 97 percent of them will put their four hooves on the ground in exactly the same sequence and at exactly the same time. Pronghorn have at least four gaits, or running patterns, but even when they shift from one to another at high speed, there remains better than 90 percent synchrony in the herd. Even in the exact instant they change their hoof sequence and timing while running at forty or fifty miles per hour, 93 percent of them will do so at precisely the same time--and the rest will correct at a fraction of a second."
He goes on to say, "Although I have witnessed the full winter herd only once, there is no possibility that I will ever forget it. These animals don't appear to run at all but instead seem to flow across the land."
I find this phenomenal, don't you?