The Antelope

The South Ranch was an immensely large pasture. It extended from the Salt Lake Road to the south at least 20 miles, past the back gates of the Tucson Electric Power Plant and beyond. Across this large expanse of land roamed hundreds of cattle and at least a hundred pronghorn antelope. These critters, affectionately known as speed goats, ran across the countryside, racing our pickup, reaching speeds of 50 mph. They were always a sight to behold. They were also very curious. All one had to do to draw them close was to hold up a child's pinwheel in the breeze. They would come within yards just to try and figure out what it was.

 One year, we were patrolling the pasture for unbranded calves. We had the propane tank and branding pot in the back of the truck and a horse trailer with two horses behind. We had already ridden the pasture several times. We were attempting to catch the stragglers and more sneaky animals.

 As we passed each bunch of cattle, we would check for brands. If any were unbranded, we would drive ahead a few hundred yards, out of sight of the group, and unload the horses. Two cowboys would ride off to herd the cattle to the truck and rope the errant calf. I would have the branding irons hot and ready, and the job was finished quickly. Then on to find the next unlucky beast.  

 We came across one herd, and I was told to ride around them to keep them from running. Though I hated riding, and wasn't too good at it, I did what I was told. After 30 minutes of nothing happening, I rode back to the truck. 

Though it was a rather cruel thing for those cowboys to do, and quite self-incriminating, I still laugh about it. There were no unbranded calves in the bunch I had been tending. Instead, one of the cowboys had roped one of those antelope. The other cowboy had jumped off his horse, flanked the antelope, laid it on the ground, and while the horse applied tension on the rope as it was trained, the cowboy who had been horseback had gone to the truck, prepared the irons, and had branded a nice neat Triangle H brand across the beast’s left rear hip.

 Later, those cowboys realized the trouble they would get in if the game warden saw that brand, but for several months after work, we often saw an antelope running across the prairie with his brand emblazoned on his hip that read, “property of Earl Platt!” As far as I know, that was the only wild animal on the ranch with a Triangle H brand.