OF A RANCHMAN 205 



never have dreamed it was a deer if left to 

 myself. Watching it attentively I soon saw 

 it move enough to satisfy me where the 

 head lay ; kneeling on one knee and (as it 

 was a little beyond point-blank range) hold- 

 ing at the top of the portion visible, I pulled 

 trigger, and the bright-colored patch disap- 

 peared from among the bushes. The aim 

 was a good one, for, on riding up to the 

 brink of the ravine, we saw a fine white- 

 tail buck lying below us, shot through just 

 behind the shoulder ; he was still in the red 

 coat, with his antlers in the velvet. 



A deer is far from being such an easy 

 animal to see as the novice is apt to suppose. 

 Until the middle of September he is in the 

 red coat ; after that time he is in the gray ; 

 but it is curious how each one harmonizes 

 in tint with certain of the surroundings. A 

 red doe lying down is, at a little distance, 

 undistinguishable from the soil on which 

 she is ; while a buck in the gray can hardly 

 be made out in dead timber. While feed- 

 ing quietly or standing still, they rarely 



