American Big-Game Hunting 



ing the mysterious scenery and thinking what 

 course it would be best to. take, when again 

 my buck loomed up for a few seconds in the 

 distance, and once more walked quickly out 

 of sight. This was a great surprise and 

 pleasure, and the pace at which I set out 

 in pursuit would have rejoiced the heart of 

 a messenger boy. I ran as fast as I could, 

 stopping to peer over every rise in the land, 

 and was soon rewarded by a most interesting 

 sight. The buck had come upon another, 

 fully as large if not larger than himself, and 

 they were exchanging greetings across a 

 small washout, each extending his nose and 

 smelling the other. They would sniff a min- 

 ute and then turn their heads about, flap their 

 long gray ears, and wiggle their short black 

 tails, acting as if they were old friends. 



It seems a great pity to shoot such no- 

 ble creatures; but unfortunately this thought 

 rarely comes at the right time for the deer. 

 Given, a man having killed nothing for sev- 

 eral days, unmercifully guyed by all the cow- 

 boys, and add to that a long and lively chase 

 after constantly vanishing venison, — when, 

 then, the man gets within shooting distance, 

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