n6 A SPORTSMAN'S EDEN. 



was half a mile away, and the deer, having seen 

 us, moved off towards it at a smart trot. Toma 

 made signs to me to follow him, and next moment 

 we were over the ridge out of sight of our quarry, 

 and galloping ' ventre a terre ' over a horribly 

 slippery slope, in the endeavour to cut the buck 

 off before he could reach the wood. As we came 

 over the ridge we saw we were just too late, his 

 stern disappearing amongst the timber as we 

 came in sight. The snow was falling, and as we 

 hardly anticipated work so near camp, I still wore 

 a macintosh ; my feet were, as usual, in moccasins. 

 Without a word, Toma rode full gallop into the 

 timber, threw himself from his horse and dashed 

 downhill over logs whose sharp and ragged limbs 

 caught and tore my flying macintosh, and over 

 stakes and flints which almost made me howl as 

 I trod upon them. But in spite of all we held 

 on at best pace for half a mile, and then we 

 caught sight of the buck, rather blown with his 

 recent exertions, lazily lurching over the fallen 

 timber, while the hinds were far on ahead. It 

 was a fluky shot I fired, for I was at least as 

 blown as the buck, though in better condition ; 

 but it brought him up all standing for a moment, 

 and gave me a chance of rolling him head over 

 heels with the second barrel before he had re- 

 covered from his surprise. I never saw a fatter 



