462 Reminiscences of 



logging road which I had been on several times and 

 where I had observed the tracks and indications of a 

 very large deer. Proceeding along cautiously, as was 

 my wont, looking at every spot where I was putting 

 my feet, to avoid the crackling of a twig or decayed 

 limb, and still looking ahead, I observed, perfectly 

 motionless, not ten rods ahead of me as I turned an 

 angle of this old road, one of the largest bucks, I think, 

 I have ever seen, the one whose tracks I had observed. 

 He was standing apparently clear entirely from the 

 timber by the side of the road, broadside toward me, 

 perfectly motionless, with his head and large antlers 

 slightly turned toward me and gazing upon me with 

 apparently the same interest that I felt in seeing him. 

 Mentally I thought he was mine surely; with the rifle 

 in my hand which had brought down several deer 

 before at single shots, and with nothing distracting 

 my view, nor troubled by buck fever, which I have 

 never experienced, but as coolly and deliberately as I 

 would fire at a target ten rods off, which was the dis- 

 tance of this buck, I brought carefully my rifle sights 

 to a level, and without any haste, taking the most 

 deliberate aim which was afforded by the oppor- 

 tunity, I fired. I fired at his body slightly back of the 

 shoulder blades. It was a rough surprise to the buck. 

 He turned, however, quickly taking his back track, 

 and throwing up his signal flag of departure, which 

 indicated that he was not hit, or at least had not re- 

 ceived any wound of importance, and went off with 

 bounds too rapid for me, owing to the then obstructing 

 foliage, to get another shot. Astounded at my failure, 

 I started after him, after having rapidly thrown another 

 cartridge into the barrel of my rifle. I could follow 



