246 Deer of the Pacific Coast 



see you — a deer more often has its head down 

 like that of an old cow, or stuck in a bush feed- 

 ing, or out of sight around some log from which 

 the shoulder or other part of the body can hardly 

 be distinguished. Except when he raises his 

 head, once in a while, to look around for danger, 

 the most shapely old buck has none of the grace- 

 ful form of the artist's deer, but is more often a 

 mere spot or patch of brown, gray, or even nearly 

 black, with some white occasionally showing. 

 The consequence is that it takes long training of 

 the eye to see such an animal quickly enough to 

 get a standing shot, if it is at rest, while to see 

 one lying down is only a rare accident in the 

 woods. And even from the very best eyes the 

 majority of deer escape because they are so very 

 quick to detect the slightest motion of the hunter, 

 who has to keep moving in order to cover enough 

 ground. 



All these difficulties are increased on most of 

 the ground that forms the home of the blacktail. 

 A deer always looks small enough over the sights of 

 the rifle, but among the great redwoods, Port Orford 

 cedars, sugar-pines, and firs of this coast the black- 

 tail often looks more like a rabbit. For this reason 

 there are vast areas on which true still-hunting 

 is about impossible. Fire-hunting could rarely 

 be a success, for lakes are not abundant on most 

 of the range, while nearly all the streams are too 



