THE MULE DEER. 139 



Thus much for the Deer himself; now for the getting 

 him — a very different thing! 



In a wild, lonely nook of the Blue Mountains of Oregon, 

 between the west and south forks of Burnt River, lies our 

 camp for a fall hunt — for recreation from a hard summer' s 

 work, and for meat to stretch out the beef for the winter. 

 It is October. In that altitude of five thousand feet above 

 the sea-level, and in an almost rainless climate, the air, 

 under a cloudless sun at midday, is cool and bracing; and 

 the sun once down, the cold requires a good winter fire for 

 the night. I have lived many years — more than three- 

 score — and I have never known greater j)hysical and mental 

 enjoyment combined than at just such a camp-fire, in just 

 such a solitude, with just such a company — all fond of the 

 woods, of the rifle, of the hunt for Deer. The summer's 

 work had been a most toilsome' one, j)utting wp hay to 

 carry the stock of the ranch through the winter, and getting 

 everything in order for the near approach of that season. 

 And now the work of the long, weary, wearing months 

 could be thrown aside; care could be given to the winds for 

 ten days or a fortnight, and the keen pleasure of seeking 

 the wary Deer in the midst of his haunts, and glinting 

 over the brown barrel at tlie noble game, could be enjoyed 

 to the full. 



And noble game it is; for it is the Mule Deer of Oregon 

 and Washington — next to the Elk and the Moose, the 

 largest and finest of our American CermdcB. We were 

 camped in the midst of a region he peculiarly loves — near 

 the foot-hills that slope upward from the forks of the river 

 to ridges and mountains covered with pine, fir, laurel, 

 mountain mahogany, grease- wood, from all of which he 

 crops his fare, and in the midst of which he seeks the i:)laces 

 of his rest and his hiding — always with possibilities of 

 meeting the lordly Elk, which, even at this season, and 

 earlier, comes down from his far mountain haunts for the 

 alkali-springs that are found here and there along all these 

 mountain streams. And this wild tract stretches away a 

 hundred miles to the west, an unbroken wilderness of forest, 



