50 MY ARCTIC JOURNAL 



over, he returned for me and carried me across ; then we 

 continued in the direction of the white spot, which all this 

 time had not moved. After traveling for nearly an hour we 

 were near enough to see that beside the prostrate deer stood 

 a tiny black-and-white creature, a fawn. Whether it saw us 

 and whispered to its mother, I do not know; but immediately 

 after we had made out the little one, the mother deer raised 

 her head, looked at us, then rising slowly, started off at a 

 moderate walk. We quickened our steps, and so did she. 

 When within three hundred yards, Dr. Cook discharged his 

 rifle several times, but only succeeded in wounding her in the 

 fore leg, which did not seem to retard her progress in the least. 

 Several times we were near enough to have shot her without 

 any trouble, but we were so excited — a case of buck-fever, I 

 believe the hunters call it — that she escaped every shot. To 

 add to our difficulties the deer made for a neighboring lake, 

 and in the effort to stop her before she reached it, we fired 

 shot after shot until the doctor's rifle was empty. There was 

 now nothing for us to do but stand around and crouch behind 

 the boulders in the hope that the poor wounded animal would 

 come ashore within pistol-shot range. It was evident that she 

 was too weak to swim across, and it was very touching to see 

 how the little fawn would support its mother in the water. 

 Once or twice she tried to climb out on the ice-foot, but the 

 ice was not strong enough, and broke beneath her weight. We 

 were thoroughly chilled and hungry by this time, but disliked 

 the idea of returning empty-handed to camp after such a long 



