THE MULE DEER. 157 



this larger one; a great, fallen dry pine near my tent, fur- 

 nishing me a back-log for a month, while abundance of 

 dead branches and dry alder cover the ground; at the head, 

 and beyond, other ravines rare hunting-grounds, especially 

 over the divide, where is an immense canon, five hundred feet 

 deep, and clothed on its rugged sides to the very top with 

 all food that sustains the Deer; on all sides, over the small 

 foot-hills, grew abundant bunch-grass for my horse, who 

 could always be picketed in sight; clear, crisp, open 

 weather for weeks together, the autumn sun without a 

 cloud. All that enters into the making a perfect camp and 

 perfect sport existed there; and, in physical sense, life itself 

 was a luxury, as the scene around and above was a glory. 



A ranchman friend, living in the valley at the end of my 

 canon, was my companion for a day, as he was my guide to 

 the spot. It was four o'clock when we had pitched the 

 tent, arranged horses and wood for the night. Reed cast 

 his eye up at the sun: 



"Mr. C , the sun is an hour high; we have time to 



kill a Deer before night. I have seen whole bands from the 

 very spot where we stand." 



It seemed incredible to me; the woods were so open, so 

 park-like and civilized, that it seemed to me much as if one 

 should say that we could find a Deer on a farm within sight 

 of Chicago. I was soon to be undeceived. 



' ' Now, you take that swale coming into this from the 

 west, and I will take the one to the east, and we will be in 

 camp by dusk." 



Absolutely, I took up my rifle as if I were going to look 

 for a Deer in a highway or on a farm. I was yet within 

 sight of my tent; my friend had just passed out of sight. 

 I let my rifle down from my shoulder, and began to think 

 which way I should look for a Deer, when right before 

 me, at a few hundred yards, stood, broadside to me and 

 looking at me, the most princely buck I ever saw! He had 

 just come down the ravine, probably with his nose to the 

 ground on a doe's track, for his head was but half -raised 

 and turned sidewise to look at me. His massive, branch- 



