A FIGHT WITH THE BUCK. 171 



owin' to the night-dews, but that buck went down, and 

 after kickin' a moment, laid still, and I took it for granted 

 he was dead So I laid down my rifle, and went up to 

 where he was, and with my huntin' kuife in my hand, took 

 hold of his horn to raise his head so as to cut his throat. 

 If that deer was dead, he came to life mighty quick ; for 

 I had no sooner touched him, than he sprang to his feet, 

 and with every hair standin' straight towards his head, 

 came like a mad bull at me. In struggMn' up he oversot 

 me ; and as he made his drive one prong went through 

 the calf of my leg. I plunged my knife into his body, 

 and the blood spurted all over me. But it wasn't no use. 

 He smashed down upon me again, and made that hole in 

 my leg above the knee. I handled my knife in a hurry, 

 and made more than oue hole in his skin, while he stuck 

 a prong through my arm. I hollered for Crop, who was 

 watching the shanty as his duty was. The old buck and 

 I had it rough and tumble ; sometimes one a-top, and 

 sometimes the other, and both growin' weak from loss of 

 blood. May be we didn't kick and tussle about, and tear 

 up the sand on the beach of the lake some! The buck 

 was game to the backbone, and had no notion of givin' 

 in, and I had to fight for it, or die ; so up and down, 

 over and over,* and all around, we went for a long time, 

 until Crop made up his mind that my callin' so earnestly 

 meant something, and round the point he came. When 

 he saw what was goin' on, you ought to've seen how ff 



