414 
But the last few days were full of fever- 
ish excitement, for the stream swarmed 
with deer driven to the water by the 
heat and the flies. 
One morning we “jumped”’ five does 
The first 
was at the end of a long lane of water, 
in almost as many minutes. 
all but her head submerged, feeding on 
the tender alder leaves which dipped 
low toward the surface. We were in 
full view before it was possible to swing 
in toward the shore, but my wife sent 
the canoe forward so noiselessly that the 
deer continued to feed undisturbed. 
Suddenly she saw us and dashed in 
great leaps down the stream and around 
the bend. 
A few hundred yards farther on there 
was a deep pool enclosed by alders, but 
edged with succulent grass. As we 
neared the spot, I saw a circle of ripples 
spreading out beneath the bushes and 
knew that a deer must be on the ether 
At a signal my wife dug her 
side. 
THE AMERICAN MUSEUM JOURNAL 
paddle into the mud sending us spinning 
around the curve. There was the deer 
sure enough, a big doe with her mouth 
full of hhes. I started the camera just 
as she snorted and plunged forward into 
the pool. In a second she was beyond 
her depth and swimming frantically, her 
big ears waving back and forth and a 
long streamer of grass from her mouth 
trailing astern. It was only a moment 
before she struck the soft bank on the 
other side and with two or three mad 
plunges threw her dripping body into 
the alders. 
The week was full of incidents such 
as these, and it was with a good deal of 
regret that we broke camp on a hot 
Thursday to spend our last three: days 
at the Lake with Colonel Brandreth. 
We had been there many times during 
the summer, often wet and tired and 
discouraged, but always to find a warm 
welcome from every inmate of “Camp 
Good-Enough.” 
