138 ON THE FEONTIEE. 



and their depth in the ground his weight. He had been 

 going at an easy trot, the glaze on them was bright, their 

 edges unbroken, not a speck of drifted dust was on them ; 

 they were as fresh as new paint. They were not an hour 

 old. 



In imagination I smelled roasted venison, and instantly 

 started in pursuit. I followed on the tracks until within 

 an hour of sunset, but never got even a glimpse of the 

 deer; and by that time his trail had brought me to the 

 bank of a stream flowing down one of the side valleys. 

 The buck, browsing here and there, but never stopping long 

 in one place, had led me a wide circuit, through and over 

 valleys and ridges. He had not seen or smelled me, how- 

 ever, since none of his movements showed that he had 

 been alarmed. 



The stream, at the place where the deer's track led to it, 

 was unusually wide, consequently slack in current, and 

 therefore frozen over. The snow still lay on the ice, and 

 the buck's tracks, where he had crossed, looked but just 

 made. The ice seemed firm, and I started to cross the 

 creek. About ten feet from shore, bang through I went, 

 waist-deep, into the cold water, and broke and scrambled 

 my way back with great difficulty, and with noise enough 

 to frighten into a gallop any wild animal that might be 

 within a quarter of a mile of me. 



It was very disagreeable, very annoying, and very cold ; 

 and my clothes beginning to freeze on me, I started for 

 camp at a brisk walk. 



Just as the sun was going down I passed near to where 

 the turkeys had flown off to roost. It struck me that by 



