126 THE STILL-HUNTER. 



the mere appearance of the snow around the edge 

 and in front of the track. With a few days' practice 

 you can tell a trail five minutes old from one five 

 hours old, even in dry snow. But we will leave this 

 trail, for we shall surely find fresher ones. 



Here we come to one that is quite fresh. But the 

 size of the footprints, as well as their distance apart, 

 shows the trail to be that of a large buck. As it is 

 the height of running-time we will let him go. 



Ah! Here is what we want a trail of a doe and 

 two fawns. They are going, too, toward the acorn 

 ridges a good place to catch them. 



With watchful eye you steal cautiously along the 

 trails. These lead to the acorn ridges, and here they 

 begin to separate. The deer evidently have stopped 

 traveling, and are now straggling about here and 

 there. Your common-sense now tells you that they 

 have probably stopped to feed a bit here and may be 

 very close, perhaps just over the next ridge. There- 

 fore you redouble your caution about noise, and look 

 more keenly than ever at every spot that can pos- 

 sibly be a bit of a deer's coat. All of which is very 

 well. 



In a moment or two you reach the top of the first 

 ridge, and a good long look at all the ground in sight 

 shows you no deer. But you find where deer have 

 pawed up the snow for acorns. The trails, too, cross 

 and recross each other here, so that you can follow 

 nothing. And they become mixed, too, with other 

 deer-tracks until you are quite confused. You con- 

 sider yourself fully equal, however, to this emergency, 

 and resolve to cut the knot by the very simple device 

 of the rabbit-tracker a circle. 



This plan is correct enough in itself. But why do 



