BEATEN BY A THREE-LEGGED BUCK. 103 



careless, and as we slowly wended our unthankful way 

 first one in front, then the other, talking aloud, deploring 

 our misfortune, and paying but little attention to the sur- 

 roundings, unsportsmanlike on such an occasion my pony 

 (for I was in front) suddenly shied, turning almost com- 

 pletely round, and at the same time brought me excessively 

 near getting a spill. And what do you imagine was the 

 cause of this want of propriety in so experienced a steed ? 

 Simply this : the deer had lain down, and we had almost 

 ridden over him. To wheel round and try to bring my 

 gun to bear was the work of a few seconds, but all my 

 exertions and rapidity of motion were thrown away. The 

 pony would not stand still ; he had evidently been 

 frightened, or perhaps was still in ignorance of what 

 caused the alarm. Moreover, my manoeuvring so directly 

 intervened between my friend and the game that, for fear 

 of peppering me, he dared not fire. To turn round and 

 look at one another, first sulkily, but afterwards to burst 

 into a roar of laughter at the absurdity of the whole 

 thing, was the result, each agreeing that the buck had well 

 earned his safety, and that two such awkward devils had 

 no right to a feast of venison resulting from that hunt, 

 and, therefore, we had better acknowledge that we were 

 beaten handsomely, and that by a buck on three legs. 



On the following occasion the results were different. 

 In the autumn of 186 , when travelling across the Grand 

 Prairie, about 150 miles north of where the last episode 

 occurred, I was caught in the first snowstorm of the 

 season. The vicinity was but sparsely settled, and from 



