112 Seventy Years a Master. 



and he was getting beaten. They were coming 

 up to the covert with him, and I was in a 

 rackway not far from a cross-ride. My friend 

 Bill Pope stood at the crossing, watching the 

 riding. They came right up to it, into it, and 

 over, and then threw up. 



I said, " Bill, you've missed him." He 

 assured me that no deer had gone over there, 

 so I blew, and they came back to me. And 

 as I was riding through the brambles, my 

 horse must have nearly trod on him, for the 

 rein of my bridle caught on his antlers. 

 ^* Oh," I said, '^ That's your game," and after 

 him I went. He did not go a hundred yards 

 before he gave a great bound, and then, down 

 he went again in a big patch of grass. I kept 

 my eye on the place and rode up to it. There 

 he lay, antlers flat on his back, and all but 

 concealed. I cracked my whip and up he 

 jumped, but this time he did not go far before 

 they pulled him down. 



Another deer which I ran from Wrestling- 

 worth Plantation gave me, I shall always 

 think, one of the hardest tasks I ever had. 



