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60 



NOTES OF THE HUNT. 



waters and a chase began which had a good deal of 

 agony in it for some one. It is on record that Louis, 

 who had a perfect craze, it seemed, for long shots, began 

 firing at 150 yards, a distance which, as he has learned 

 by this time, is less likely to be fatal when done in a 

 sitting posture out of a canoe, than on land. As a 

 consequence of his rashness, the gigantic buck turned 

 back from the water into the woods and got off. 



" Ah ! Sacr-r-isti ! Did you see that ? " * * * 

 Fancy his feelings, any one who can. 



" I vow we paddled him clean around the Lake," 

 said Will Trueman. 



" Such a monster, my dear Tom," cried Louis, his 

 eyes ablaze. *' Horns like this " — and he stretched his 

 arms above his head. '• Mille tonnerres ! I could kick 

 myself — a two hundred and fifty pounder, magnifique, 

 vraiment ; and he looked at us, so — Nom de Saint 

 Jacques, quelle sottise ! Mon cher Tom, I could kick my- 

 self. Never again will I commit myself in such hasty 

 manner — no, never." 



Dear old Fly went after this legendary buck once 

 more, and chased him to the shore of Poverty Lake, 

 where Jim Trueman saw him. Off he went, and that 

 was the last of him ; but the persistent Fly kept up 

 the chase. To no effect, however; and at 1.30 she 

 swam the lake and reached Camp. Scout came back, 

 wet, having evidently been swimming after something 

 in Ox Tongue Lake. The young dogs, Dan and Glen, 

 put a yearling buck into Chandler's lake, who finished 

 the career of the pretty creature by one merciful shot. 



** This wound up the hunt," says the narrator, 

 brieily, and adds, " We then went back and got our 

 dinner." 



