LooKING FoR ANTLERS. 155 

3ut now east again, and steady to the point, crossing the old 
roads we know so well and travelling every moment nearer to 
our camp. He picks the clearest route, as he has chosen the 
best generally, is walking more leisurely, for which we again 
say thanks, as about this time, although we believe in a free 
perspire and no stint of good water, we have had a several 
times sufficiency of each for the day. Coming to some old 
lumber operation where a goodly pile of old tops are show- 
ing above the low bushes, I again move slowly and look well 
ahead and all about such a feeding chance, but see him not. 
Yet here we should be cautious, as he has made directly 
toward this with slower, shorter steps toward the last, a broad 
hint that he would take a bite. But we have while leaning 
beside a tree, scanned most closely everything in sight. Creep- 
ing on again I now see his tracks ahead leading down into a 
little valley, also showing the old tops and quite a blow-down 
of spruce trees piled up at some former time by old boreas 
himself, especially for myself, for which—thanks. Stop- 
ping as quickly as my eye rests upon the blow down, and 
standing behind another large and friendly birch which hides 
me wholly, should he be there, I wipe the perspiration from 
my face, and as the cool east wind, so grateful to me now, 
puffs across the ravine, I look out by the side of the birch 
long and steadily, and at last after all am inclined to think he 
is not there. 
But hold on Quaker! The wind again brings to us a 
crackling, and this time from up above the ground, plain 
and distinct. He ¢s tz the blow-down, and in reaching 
for some thrifty bunch of gray moss, has cracked or broken 
off a branch. And now Mr. Gadabout, I locate you by the 
sound. You have found an elegant feeding chance and are 
