The Mule- deer 207 



But in heavy brush every leap is liable to be the 

 last, for at any moment the game drops out of 

 sight and sneaks away, or goes off on a low trot 

 with head down, or even breaks into a low run, 

 in all of which he is as perfect as in his lofty 

 bounding. Keeping a string of empty shells 

 hot from the ejector of the repeater revolving 

 in whizzing curves above your head is ruinous 

 to good shooting, but in many cases it is the only 

 chance. And when the firing pin clicks dead on 

 the empty barrel and the brush closes forever on 

 the last curve of shining fur, I never feel badly, 

 for if there is anything I love it is game that 

 knows how to escape. Such work should be 

 prepared for by much fine target practice off- 

 hand, as this snap shooting tends to destroy 

 that extreme fineness of sight and touch on the 

 trigger, on which in the long run success with the 

 rifle most depends. 



This deer is probably the most mischievous of 

 his race. Most all deer eat turnips, beans, and a 

 few other things, and occasionally nip grain. But 

 the mule-deer will spoil from thirty to fifty of the 

 largest bunches of grapes in a night, and later in 

 the season will finish off the leaves and shoots, 

 besides cleaning up the new wood on deciduous 

 fruit trees. Apples, Japanese persimmons, pears, 

 quinces, almost anything in reach, he spoils with 

 a single bite and passes on to another, as he does 



