LookInG FoR ANTLERS. 145 

and very whitest crusted snow, blown nearly bare of the last 
light snow, and now beautifully glistening in the sunlight. 
And as we scan it o’er, our eyes are not gladdened with the 
sight of the proud buck coming up over the longest hard, 
crusty ways, nor wading through the shoal drifts between the 
mounds, leaving the clean cut shape of his hoof at the bottom, 
with the print of his dew claws at the rear of them; not ap- 
proaching with his careless, sauntering gait and general drowsy 
action, when at his ease, that even the north wind in winter 
seems not to change. 
Not coming to-day, to stop at last near the edge of the 
pond in front of us, to quickly throw up his head and look all 
alive again, as he holds the long sought for antlers, elegant in 
size and shape, with their many points and all the colors of 
old gold, high up and steady before our gaze, his dark fore- 
head beneath all exposed for a target, and as not a care-a-bo0 
is in sight down the wind to the south of us, we raise up ; 
now we are ready to resume our tramp, and are looking 
behind again over all the large and small open places at the 
north. As our backs are turned, a sound reaches us from the 
south, and turning quickly, we see trotting away from us over 
the frozen pond a noble buck, flying off with our andélers, 
even tipping them back over his shoulders to tantalize us with 
their beauty, showing them clean and bright as the golden 
leaves of autumn. Much too far away for a good shot, he 
hardly shows any apparent lessening of his speed, as he 
wheels and faces towards us, holding well up to view, ow 
antlers. He now hears a shot from us, fired out of real 
angry spite, aimed high above his head and which strikes at 
his feet, when away he bounds to the forest beyond, all safe 
and sound, to live, laugh and chuckle, while he tells to an 
