ON THE EDGE OF THE SNOW 



ground in rows an universal Austrian custom. 

 " The Sun " had shot a doe ; and the two keepers 

 had each shot a buck, one rather a good one. 



But over my big buck " the Sun " grew eloquent. 



" My dear fellow," he said, " if you shoot here for 

 twenty years, you will never shoot a better one ! 

 Look at his horns ! Look at his head ! Look at 

 the whole beast ! He is one of the very best bucks 

 in the whole Zillerthal ! " 



And, personally, I had not the slightest wish to 

 contradict him. 



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