92 WILD SPORTS IN THE SOUTH. 



just loaded, and had my foot in the stirrup, when, with- 

 out changing position, I fired at the stag's shoulder. I 

 missed my mark, but shot one of the does, that tumbled 

 down in the grass. The buck and the other doe once 

 more turned back, and, wild with fright, coursed down the 

 edge of the hummock toward Poke, who fired his barrel 

 again, and this time, with some correctness, for the buck 

 dropped his tail for an instant with an uneasy motion, 

 when raising it again, he turned back, followed by Poke, 

 on horseback, directly past my stand. I fired my second 

 barrel without efiect, and then, not able to resist the 

 contagion of the chase, spurred my horse after the flying 

 anunals. Away they went down the little swale that led 

 toward Lou Jackson's stand. One hound after another, 

 as he came out of the rushes, caught sight of the deer, 

 and joined in the chase with a double note. Bang ! came 

 a shot from my left, missed clear, and the hunter, not 

 stopping to load, joined the chase. Now for it. Miss 

 Jackson ! I saw her raise her gun, her father was close 

 behind, riding hard to get to her, and away down the 

 woods I could see Mike trying to head off the chase, his 

 long hair streaming behind him like a woman's. A i)uff 

 of smoke, and a report — the buck staggered ; another 

 shot and he seemed to renew his courage, drawing in 

 behind him, in one yelling, shouting, crashing train, every 

 man, horse, and dog, in the woods. 



" You hit him, Lou. Tally-ho ! Hi on ! hi ! Hurrah ! 

 Faster ! There's Tip, and there's Slasher ! Go it. Music ! 

 Golly ! maussa, gib him fits !" were the cries that were 



