MISCELLANEOUS. 293 



lumber camp, a distance of nearly forty miles. The appear- 

 ance of this wagon is as much of an event to the few people 

 in this wilderness as is the entrance of a circus into our town 

 to the colored people. 



Early on Sunday morning we broke camp, loaded our 

 baggage again into the wagon, and started to retrace our steps 

 toward the confines of civilization. We reached our driver's 

 house, a cozy, comfortable farm-house, six miles from the 

 railroad station, at five o'clock P.M., and remained over night. 

 Here one of the most exciting episodes of the trip occurred. 

 As we neared the house we had heard the baying of a hound 

 in the woods, and our driver had remarked that we might 

 reasonably expect a shot at a deer before dark. Sure enough, 

 while we were preparing for supper a deer came bounding 

 across the opening, and plunging into a small lake on the 

 farm, started to swim across. We at once gathered such 

 weapons as we could readily get hold of and started for the 

 lake. Two of us went toward the point where he would come 

 out of the water, and Sam Hutchings ran round to the side 

 where he had entered the lake. As we headed him off he 

 turned and started back, and when within about thirty yards 

 of Sam, who had hastily caught up his Smith & Wesson 

 revolver, and who, by the way, is a somewhat famous pistol 

 shot, he sent a ball through his head and ended his career. 

 He proved to be a nearly full-grown fawn, and we made 

 several meals from the choicest parts during the remainder of 

 our trip. 



After partaking of an early breakfast with the farmer, we 

 bade good-bye to his family, and he drove us over to the 

 station in time for the train to Petoskey, where we arrived in 

 due time. At eight o'clock A.M. we took the train for Lake- 

 view, at the head of Crooked lake, six miles distant, and an 

 hour later were on board the little steamer "Northern Belle," at 



