THe AERIAL BLIND. SI 

ed yelps, mixed with small growls, and with every hair from 
his nose to the tip of his brush standing up, he skipped away 
lively down the same way he came. 
It is really interesting to sit quietly up in the trees and 
watch the deer below in their native wildwood, free, and 
roaming at will, wholly unmindful of your presence, and not 
an enemy to them lurking near, as they stroll about and some- 
times pass immediately beneath you, feeding leisurely along, 
now and then stopping and raising their heads to look anx- 
iously about if they hear any unusual sound, which must be 
unusual to attract any attention from them. Not the wild 
roar or whistling of the winds, the groaning or creaking of 
the trees, or even the falling crash of an old monarch of the 
forest, unless very close to them, and then only one little jump 
do they make before understanding it all. Nor the hooting 
or screech of the owl, or the half yawn, half scream of the 
bob cat, nor the call of the fisher (the black cat) as he starts 
out on his evening’s raid at sundown. All these are familiar 
sounds to the deer, at which they scarcely raise their heads 
from their feeding. We had the pleasure at one time in the 
fall of the year while sitting upon the old blind, of seeing the 
unexpected meeting of two deer, which were both females. 
One was feeding very leisurely, its head low down, for its 
favorite plant or shrub, its sauntering movements, as usual 
when feeding at ease, suggesting it might be half asleep, when 
suddenly it hears a sound different from the scampering of 
the squirrels or the soughing of the winds. This is a steady 
rustle of the dried leaves upon the ground conveyed more dis- 
tinctly by the breeze being toward the listener. Another deer 
as slowly wading by through the thick covering upon the 
mould of dry and rustling leaves, which are very dry and 
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