36 HILLS AND LAKES. 



animal, regarding himself as lost, bleated out in the 

 extremity of his terror. Still he pressed nrfj[y for- 

 ward, our canoe in fierce and hot pursuit, u.j.til his 

 hoofs touched the bottom, then the chase war up ; a 

 few desperate leaps brought him to the beach, and he 

 plunged triumphantly into his native wil/fe. We 

 heard his long bounds, and the crashing of the dry 

 brush growing fainter and fainter, until the 7 were lost 

 in the distance, and all was still again. That deer 

 will remember us to his dying day, nor shall we 

 soon forget him. There were few dry thieads in our 

 garments when the chase was ended, and they were 

 not wet by the waters of the lake. Our acquaintance, 

 like many that are formed in this life, though brief, 

 was impressive. 



"Slowly," but not "sadly," we paddled back to 

 our brush shantee, and while the sun seemed hanging 

 like a lantern in the tops of the forest trees, we sat 

 down to our supper. 



We were too weary that night to disturb the deer, 

 and we retired early to our boughs ; we had to renew 

 our smudge every hour to keep off the insects that 

 " revel in human blood." There was little danger of 

 sur neglecting this duty, for as the smoke ceased, the 



