282 CRUISINGS IN THE CASCADES 



near presence of the game and set my blood tingling 

 and my nerves twitching. 



So soon as there was sufficient light to show the 

 front sight of my rifle against a gray stump fifty 

 yards away, I started to move, as cautiously as I 

 knew how, toward a clump of wild-cherry bushes 

 that I had seen moving and from which came slight 

 but suspicious sounds. When within thirty yards 

 of it I stepped on a stick that snapped, and simul- 

 taneously with the sound a monster buck leaped 

 high in the air, and landing twenty feet away, 

 uttered a shrill whistle and stopped, with his head 

 thrown up, to try and locate the danger. I brought 

 my rifle to my shoulder with a convulsive jerk, 

 pointed it at him and fired without thinking of the 

 sights, and of course scored an ignominious miss. 



Well, I wish every friend I have on earth could 

 have been there at that moment. That whole tract 

 of country, as far as I could see, seemed alive with 

 deer. Thrash! Crash! Bumpety-bump! Phew! 

 Phew! 



There was jumping, thrashing through the brush, 

 whistling, flipping and flapping of white flags, and 

 the air seemed full of glistening gray coats. The 

 buck I had shot at sailed away, and was soon fol- 

 lowed in his flight by a doe and two fawns. A doe 

 and fawn went in another direction, three fawns 

 in another, two does and a buck in another, and so 

 on ad infinitum. 



I stood there; like a mile-post by the roadside, 

 until they had all vanished, forgetting that I had 

 other cartridges in my belt. Finally I recovered 

 consciousness and began to wonder where some of 



