96 WILD SPOKT8 IN THE SOUTH. 



neath the belly of the struggling horse, had them sent 

 to the place where we were to meet for dinner. 



" Now one more hunt before dinner. Where shall we 



"Saw de ole white buck fur sartin, dis day, maussa!" 

 said the planter's head negro, coming up. 



"Where did you see him?" 



" Down by de run, ober dere," said the negro, point- 

 ing with his finger ; " his tracks fresh as dis niggah's." 



" You mean you saw his tracks ?" 



" Yes a maussa." 



" How does he know that it is a buck ?" I asked. 



" How fur to know he's a buck ? Haint chased dat 

 air deers' often .fur nuthin'; 'spect I be'ent a fool!" 

 replied Jumping Lem, with some asperity. 



" Wall, if that ere is the buck that run in this range 

 last winter, I kinder guess ye'll all have to rub your legs 

 with bar's grease to ketch him," added Mike. 



" Don't you think we can shoot him, Mike ?" asked 

 Lou Jackson. 



" No, young woman, I don't ; thar are too many here 

 to make certain of any deer. When a man wants a deer 

 bad, he goes alone and keeps his mouth shut." 



As we rode over to inspect the tracks, I learned, partly 

 from the exclamations of the negroes, and partly from 

 Jackson's account, that this buck passed the winters in 

 the pine woods, retiring when the mosquitoes become 

 thick in the spring, to the cool swamps of the Ouithla- 

 couchee. It has been so often hunted, and was BO sue- 



