136 The Black-Tail Deer. 



felt they justified the death of their bearer. After a 

 little patient waiting, the buck walked out of the valley, 

 and over the ridge on the other side, moving up wind ; 

 I raced after him, and crept up behind a thick growth 

 of stunted cedars, which had started up from among some 

 boulders. The deer was about a hundred yards off, 

 down in the valley. Out of breath, and over-confident, 

 I fired hastily, overshooting him. The wind blew the 

 smoke back away from the ridge, so that he saw nothing, 

 while the echo prevented his placing the sound. He 

 took a couple of jumps nearer, when he stood still and 

 was again overshot. Again he took a few jumps, and 

 the third shot went below him ; and the fourth just 

 behind him. This was too much, and away he went. 

 In despair I knelt down (I had been firing off-hand), 

 took a steady aim well-forward on his body, and 

 fired, bringing him down, but with small credit to the 

 shot, for the bullet had gone into his hip, paralyzing 

 his hind-quarters. The antlers are the finest pair I ever 

 got, and form a magnificent ornament for the hall ; but 

 the shooting is hardly to be recalled with pleasure. 

 Still, though certainly very bad, it was not quite as 

 discreditable as the mere target shot would think. I 

 have seen many a crack marksman at the target do 

 quite as bad missing when out in the field, and that 

 not once, but again and again. 



Of course, in those parts of the wilderness where 

 the black-tail are entirely unused to man, they are as 

 easy to approach (from the leeward side) as is any and 

 every other kind of game under like conditions. In 



