The Black-Tail Deer. 167 



ered with clusters of gnarled and wind-beaten cedars, often 

 gathered into groves of some size. The ground was so 

 broken as to give excellent cover under which a man could 

 approach game unseen ; there were plenty of fresh signs of 

 deer; and we were confident we should soon get a shot. 

 Keeping at the bottom of the gullies, so as to be ourselves 

 inconspicuous, we walked noiselessly on, cautiously examin- 

 ing every pocket or turn before we rounded the corner, 

 and looking with special care along the edges of the 

 patches of brush. 



At last, just as the sun had risen, we came out by 

 the mouth of a deep ravine or hollow, cut in the flank of 

 the plateau, with steep, cedar-clad sides ; and on the crest 

 of a jutting spur, not more than thirty yards from where 

 I stood, was a black-tail doe, half facing me. I was in 

 the shadow, and for a moment she could not make me 

 out, and stood motionless with her head turned toward 

 me and her great ears thrown forward. Dropping on 

 my knee, I held the rifle a little back of her shoulder 

 too far back, as it proved, as she stood quartering and 

 not broadside to me. No fairer chance could ever fall 

 to the lot of a hunter ; but, to my intense chagrin, she 

 bounded off at the report as if unhurt, disappearing 

 instantly. My companion had now come up, and we ran 

 up a rise of ground, and crouched down beside a great 

 block of sandstone, in a position from which we over- 

 looked the whole ravine or hollow. After some minutes 

 of quiet watchfulness, we heard a twig snap the air was 

 so still we could hear any thing some rods up the 

 ravine, but below us ; and immediately afterward a buck 



