60 jock's lake. 



" So much the better," replied Benson. " You can never 

 ' jack ' a deer in a bright night,— and this sultry air makes 

 the flies bite, and a deer's sure to go for the water when the 

 flies pester him as they will to-night.— Hurry up, Horace, 

 with the 'jack ' " 



Horace had prepared the ' jack-light, ' which was simply 

 a piece of bark nailed upright on the semi-circular edge of 

 a bit of board so as to form a rude reflector, within which 

 was placed a short candle, the whole supported by a stick 

 thrust through a hole in the front seat of the boat. 



Benson finished loading both barrels of his heavy shot- 

 gun with buck-shot, examined everything to see that there 

 should be no accident in the darkness, or mis-fire at the 

 critical moment. Then the two went down to the landing, 

 and we heard the muflEied gi-ating of the boat as they pushed 

 off from the rocks and disappeared from sound and sight 

 down the lake. They were to land at the foot of the lake 

 and then clamber and scramble as best they could, in the 

 darkness, down through the pathless woods to " the fly, " 

 where a water-soaked, half -rotten, leaky scow awaited 

 them. In that unrelialjlc craft, at the uncanny hour of 

 midnight, they were to light up the "jack, " and "float" 

 for deer. Horace ' was to paddle as silently as a snake 

 glides over the grass; the " jack" was to throw its light in 

 front, leaving the boat and its occupants in the shade; the 

 hunter was to sit close behind the jack-staff, gun in hand, 

 ready in an instant to shoot at the "two globes of fire" 

 which the eyes of the deer would resemble when staring, 

 confounded at the light, or to shoot at his body if luckily 

 that sliould be l)rought into relief. 



