THE FIRST SIGHT OF GAME. 97 



the log. is where you want to get. If you go directly 

 toward those logs the owner of the " sticks" will be sure 

 to hear you, or see your legs under the log, before you 

 can possibly see his body. Back out as silently as 

 death, and circling around behind that ridge, go to its 

 top from the back side. That commands a view of the 

 other side of the tree-trunk. If you should start that 

 deer now, you would not get even a running shot; at 

 this time of day he may stand there so long that it will 

 not be advisable to wait for him to move; if he does 

 move, the chances are against his moving into your 

 eye-range, as there are many other big logs close by. 



A detour of some two hundred yards brings you to 

 the top of the ridge. You look down at the fallen 

 tree and see nothing. You look several seconds, and 

 yet see nothing. Concluding that you were mistaken 

 or that he is gone, you come over the crest of the 

 ridge. And in a twinkling 



"Venison vanisheth down the vale 

 With bounding hoof and flaunting tail." 



You were too impatient. He had moved only a 

 few steps while you were going around, and stood in 

 a thin bush a few steps to the right. You should 

 have thoroughly scanned every spot within fifty yards 

 of the log, and looked for several minutes, instead of 

 several seconds, before showing even your head over 

 the ridge. So important is patience in general that I 

 shall have to reserve it for a special chapter. 



You wind your way homeward over the oak ridges, 

 and through the darkening timber see a white hand- 

 kerchief or two beckoning you on, and hear once or 

 twice the sound of bounding hoofs. But you reach 

 home without seeing anything upon which you can 



