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 sat the right time) for the deem 
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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