98 LETTERS FROM THE BACKWOODS. 



towards the ocean, and following an inlet along its 

 margin at low-water mark (it was low tide), swam 

 boldly out into the bay, and, taking a long semicircle, 

 landed on a distant point, and sought for the last time 

 the shelter of the forest. When the hounds came up, 

 the rising tide had obliterated nearly all the tracks, 

 and, it being now dusk, the chase was given up, and 

 the noble deer that had struggled so bravely for life 

 was saved. It would have been downright cruelty to 

 have slain her after such an effort to live. It would 

 have seemed like slaying a rational being. 



What a world this is ! — one half pursuers, the other 

 half pursued: half straining every nerve to save life, 

 the other half equally intent on destroying it. Thus 

 instinct battles instinct, and passion passion, and has 

 done since the fall cursed the earth. 



