THE MULE DEEil OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 179 



ground was well covered with grass, about an inch high, 

 that the first rains had started. The Deer had played about . 

 here and there, making all manner of twists and turns. 

 Altogether, it was no easy matter to unravel the tangle of 

 trails. 



We finally followed the trail into the main valley that 

 led^ from the hills, on that side, to the vineyard. At the 

 first branch of this valley the Deer had had a grand play- 

 spell. The fawns, especially, had jumped and pranced 

 around in all directions, running up the slopes and coming 

 down again with long jumps that tore ujj the soft ground in 

 long furrows. Then the party had divided, the old doe 

 going up the branch, while the fawns went with the other 

 two Deer up the main valley. 



Some two hundred yards beyond this, another branch 

 turned southward. Into this the tracks went; and so, to 

 our surprise, did the wind. Coming a little from the north 

 of east, this wind would be quite sure to follow this branch 

 of the valley; so we had to retreat as hastily as possible, in 

 order to make a circuit and get out of the breeze, which 

 would be sure to bear our scent to the Deer, and alarm them. 



Retreating down the valley some two hundred yards, we 

 ascended the hill on the west side of the little valley into 

 which the Deer had gone, so as to be on the leeward side, 

 and also be where we could see into the valley. But before 

 we had gone a quarter of a mile the brush became so high, 

 dense, and stiff that it was impossible to see anything over 

 it, or get through it without making a noise that would 

 alarm the Deer before we could get near enough to them for 

 anything like certainty in shooting. 



Nothing remained but to back out and go around to the 

 head of the little valley, and come down it, and thus have 

 the wind in our faces. Nearly half a mile away, we could 

 see where it ended by branching into several little ravines, 

 with flat-topped ridges between, clad with brush, the whole 

 forming a little brushy basin just below where the rugged 

 hills broke suddenly away into a smooth, grassy table-land 

 beyond. 



