and the Maritime Provinces. 263 



It is very rarely that a buck, however large and savage, will charge a 

 stalker without provocation, but occasionally in the mating season, when 

 wounded, he will charge. I had an encounter of this kind in 1859 on my 

 second visit to this region, from which I escaped with scarcely a scratch, 

 killing a buck which dressed 230 pounds with a single heart thrust of 

 my hunting-knife. It was in eighteen inches of snow. In a thicket I 

 came suddenly upon a large buck I had been tracking, which I slightly 

 wounded with a hasty shot. In a flash he turned upon me. It was before 

 the day of repeating- rifles, and I had barely time to drop my rifle and step 

 aside and draw my hunting-knife when I was borne down into the snow 

 by the descending buck ; as he struck me I caught him about the neck, 

 and as he arose I drove my knife to the hilt in his chest at the junction of 

 the throat, severing his windpipe and splitting his heart. Death was 

 instantaneous. I found it difficult to withdraw myself quickly enough to 

 escape the red torrent of life-blood which gushed forth. 



With the fall of snow, the deer-stalker finds new delight. With the 

 comfort of well stockinged and moccasined feet, he goes forth to new realms 

 of enchantment. The atmosphere is of buoyant and stimulating energy. 

 The arboreal and shrub-life are invested with crystallizations of dazzling 

 purity, each one being a marvel beyond the art of man. The conscious- 

 ness of being alone in a wide expanse of forest, beyond habitations and the 

 sound of human voice, is in itself, for the nonce, a sensation of relief. 



The reaches of pine groves, and of beech, and of maple, all inter- 

 spersed with birch, the loveliest tree of northern climes, are inspiring. 

 They say : " Come and explore us. We have waited long and you came 

 not. Now you shall bear witness to our grandeur and solitude, and have 

 contemplation. See in us the prototypes of your own race, how we rise 

 and fall. We flourish in prosperity, and topple in misfortune. Many stand 

 apart, rugged and gnarled, as some of your own kind, defying the wintry 

 blast; but others are nurtured in protection. Some are comely, and others 

 scarred. See in us your own history, to start forth, and bear, and die. 

 Your sun of light is ours, and the sky to all, and the air you breathe is our 

 life. Yonder broad stump is the monument of a patriarch of old. There 

 were giants in those days, but none now, for they have been taken to rib 

 your homes and deck your ocean messengers." 



At the hour of noon the stalker rests before a dead and broken pine 

 which, with match and birch peelings, is soon in blaze. His simple 

 luncheon becomes a precious blessing, and may be followed by the incense 

 of fragrant pipe. 



What more shall be required to fill the day's cup of happiness than 

 the comfort of the home-fire at night, and the panacea of Nature's most 

 enjoyable fatigue ? 



