A BIG BUCK. 89 



A BIG BUCK. 



IN the autumn of 186-, when traveling across 



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the Grand Prairie, I got caught in the first snow- 

 storm of the season. The vicinity was but sparsely 

 settled, and from the thickness of the drift our 

 charioteer lost his way, and after getting mired 

 times without number, and enduring one of the 

 most disagreeable nights out of doors it is possible 

 to imagine, we reached the village of Kent. Under 

 ordinary circumstances it would have presented no 

 great inducements, but the large wood fire that 

 blazed in the bar-room of the diminutive tavern, 

 after our protracted night of hardship, possessed 

 such attractions, that I determined to lie over for 

 a couple of days. The neighborhood was well 

 stocked with game I learned the following evening, 

 when I presented myself among the habitues, who 

 commonly made this public-house their place of 

 rendezvous after the toils of the/ day. No small 

 portion of the conversation was in reference to a 

 buck, who for years had constantly been seen, yet 



