Hunting the Mule -Deer in Colorado 267 



cabin. This time I was successful thus far : I found sign and worked 

 the ground carefully and correctly, my ambition spurred by what Old 

 Levi had told me about a fabulously large buck that for four winters 

 had used this ground, and, though frequently seen and shot at, had 

 thus far escaped unscathed. I knew that Levi and Hank were at 

 that moment less than a mile away, working toward the spot; and I 

 dreamed a little of the delight of having them find me there when 

 they arrived, with the coveted prize at my feet ; but when my 

 buck finally broke cover from among the rocks, — at my very feet, 

 indeed, — he was such a beautiful sight, his polished antlers lying 

 back almost upon his round, massive shoulders, his progress — flight, 

 it truly seemed — through that too brief vista of giant rocks, through 

 which my way had cost such labor, was something so wonderful to 

 see that I actually forgot I carried a gun till the brute with the 

 charmed life was a mile away. Was it "buck fever"? Well, that 

 was the way it took me ; but I never had it afterward. The others 

 soon came up. They had seen nothing. Again that day I was so 

 fortunate as to find, so unfortunate as to fail. We had separated, 

 they going toward Gold Hill, I working in the direction of Sugar 

 Loaf Mountain. At the edge of a ravine, I saw a movement in the 

 thick growth below, faintly against the snowy bottom. I was indulg- 

 ing in a smoke. In my haste to remove my pipe, I dropped it. Out 

 then came a large doe, and, still uncertain as to the exact point of 

 danger, in short, high jumps went half way up the rise to my left. 

 A prettier shot never offered than when she stopped, not a hundred 

 yards away, to look at me for a moment. I had a blanket rolled 

 and slung across my shoulder, and in my haste and flurry I forgot 

 it ; it got in the way as I brought my rifle up ; I stopped to drop 

 it, and when I fired, it was at a moving object instead of at a sta- 

 tionary one. I saw the dirt and snow fly a little too high and just 

 ahead of her. 



That night after sunset I was building a fire against a huge rock, 

 in the snuggest nook I could find on the east foot of Sugar Loaf, 

 when a tall, good-looking man in an army coat, with a huge muzzle- 

 loader under one arm and a little yellow dog on the other, approached 

 my bivouac. 



Hullo! Good-evening! What are you doing here such a 

 night as this ? " 



