152 CANADIAN WILDS. 



ing to a salt lick. He climbs a tree and gets 

 out on some branch overhanging the track. 

 Here he flattens himself out and waits. Yes, he 

 is a record waiter. He can give points to even 

 the girl who is waiting and watching. 



Time is no object to him; his inwards may 

 be shriveling up for want of food, but there he re- 

 mains. Once he has taken up that position noth- 

 ing but a deer will make him show the least sign 

 of life. He is to all intents a part of the tree 

 limb, and the knowledge that all things "come 

 to him who waits" is strongly fixed in his devil 

 brain. 



The deer passes, he drops on to him like a 

 rock. Should he strike too far back, his cruel 

 claws grip his way up toward the neck, and 

 there he settles himself, a fixture, and cuts away 

 at the large veins till the poor deer bleeds to 

 death. 



As soon as the deer feels this foreign weight 

 on his back the cruel teeth cutting into him, lie 

 at once runs into and through the thickest part 

 of the forest trying to rub the incubus off his 

 back. But the carcajo has the tenacity of the 

 bulldog, and his own skin would be ripped and 

 lacerated before he would let go his hold. 



The deer, realizing this mad rush through 

 the bush is useless, makes for the nearest water 

 in the hope that this will rid him of his enemy. 



