TWO DIANAS IN ALASKA 255 



feared to move, for now that the frosts were so sharp 

 at nights the recesses of the forest did not thaw out 

 much in the sunny hours, and every twig and branch 

 snapped sharply as one trod upon it. 



Into my line of vision strode the giant deer, a king 

 of his kind. I could see his great bell hanging, see 

 too the glimmer of his brown antlers with their whiter 

 shining tips. It appeared to be a fine head, but 

 through the intervening trees it was difficult to make 

 absolutely certain. I did not wait, but took my 

 chance, not a particularly good one, I am glad to 

 think, for I missed ignominiously, and the big bull 

 rushed away in the thick fastness in front of him, 

 going as easily as though he were negotiating park 

 land. 



I followed on his tracks as quickly as I could, a 

 hopeless and useless task, and encumbered as I was 

 with a rifle and shod in moccasins, the going was rather 

 difficult. A piece of alder struck me across the face, 

 a stinging blow, and stopped my progress for a 

 moment. A cow moose crossed my path, at some 

 distance, and after her raced a love-lorn swain, a two- 

 year-old with indifferent head, and stubby antlers of 

 small span. 



The most noticeable thing to me in this tracking 

 out of the large deer of the Northern wilds is their 

 immense indifference to danger. Not exactly indiffer- 

 ence, for they see after themselves to a certain ex- 

 tent, but compared with the alertness of the African 

 antelopes, with their sentinels and outposts, every 

 muscle taut for their instant flight, these denizens 



