THE MULE DEER. 145 



at its heels. If I had not moved, I think it would have 

 jumped directly on me, or over me; but seeing me as I 

 raised my riHe, it swerved to one side, and swept past me 

 like the wind. I waited to get the motion, and at the 

 third jump pulled for the flank toward me. It is four 

 years since, but I can see as distinctly as at the time the 

 bead on the flank as I pulled. But, alas! I had thrown out 

 the old cartridge without throwing in a new one, and all the 

 answer to the trigger was a dull, sickening snax^! I had not 

 yet become used to the mechanism of the new rifle, and m 

 my haste made the error. The Deer went on his way, and 

 I will venture to say lay down in his lair that night the 

 worst-scared Deer in the mountains-^-what with men, dogs, 

 guns, all coming on him at once in his afternoon nap. 



We went up to my Deer on the hill-side, and found it 

 a fine large doe. I may here say, in explanation of the 

 number of does killed, that this was just before rutting- 

 time. when the does, yearlings, and fawns keep by them- 

 selves and out of the way to avoid the bucks, who are 

 already seeking them. At the same time, they are in their 

 finest condition for meat of any time in the year. We had 

 bled and drawn her, and were resting after our lunch. The 

 big boy looked i^leased, and spoke of our good fortune of 

 the first day, and, with his own big heart and big nature, 

 was so glad the luck of the day had fallen to me. 



"But say, father, that was a fine shot at the other doe, 

 for a man that hadn't seen a Deer i^ the woods for eighteen 

 years." 



" Oh," I said, " long before you were born I had my turn 

 of buck-fever at my first Deer, and fired my rifle off into the 

 top of a big hickory. It was my vaccination, and I never 

 had it since. But then, Bates, about the shot; if I had 

 dropped four indies I would have missed her, you know! " 



He laughed, "Oh, that's all right! you didn't hapi^en to 

 drop! " 



I looked at the Deer before us. A thought struck me. 



"Bates, this isn't the Deer I shot at first, at all. This is 

 at least a three- year-old doe, and that was a yearling." 



