A REGISTERED VOW. 97 



wandering through, was as intricate, densely covered a 

 swamp as ever was inhabited by wild cat. The season 

 of the year, moreover, was not exactly the one to 

 select for making your couch on the surface of 

 mother earth, and visions of a good dinner, comfortable 

 fire, and dry clothes floated before me. Hark ! what 

 is that a dog barking ? And so it was. Forward I 

 pushed to the sound; and in doing so came across a 

 road, which, on inspection, I recognised as one we had 

 traversed in the morning. The rest of the programme 

 for that day was plain sailing. I found my pony 

 where he was left, my friend's horse being gone; 

 so, concluding Will had made tracks for home, I 

 mounted my fiery little nag, and with a sufficiently 

 tight rein to guard against accidents, rattled home, 

 almost at racing pace. It was nearly two hours after- 

 wards that Will turned up wet and exhausted down 

 upon his luck and deer in particular vowing that 

 he would be up with the sun in the morning, and not 

 return till he could boast of not having been beaten 

 by a broken-legged deer, when there was enough snow 

 to track. My defeat had similarly operated on myself, 

 so that we mutually agreed to devote the morrow, blow 

 or snow, to re-establish our tarnished honour. The 

 morning was well suited for our task, still and clear, 

 with just sufficient frost in the atmosphere to give zest 

 to travelling. The track was easily found, my back 

 track being taken as the guide. 



In ten minutes we again had our game afoot, but 

 without getting a shot, the animal having doubled 

 round before lying down, and, consequently, rising 

 behind us. The bed where he had passed the night was 

 soiled with blood, and other indications were such as to 



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