A DAY IN THE TABLE-LANDS. 187 



other side. Then that one crosses over the trail, and 

 the last one also leaves it. And now you realize that 

 the decisive hour has arrived. 



Probably it has arrived. Possibly it has not. 

 Those deer may in that way wander on for quarter 

 of a mile yet. But still you must prepare to see them 

 at any moment. 



And now what is the most important thing to 

 attend to? Obviously to be in the best position to 

 shoot. Out then from behind those thick bushes where 

 you can see nothing. Get on the side toward the sun, 

 so that you will be more likely to get a shot the other 

 way instead of having it flash into your eyes and 

 along your rifle-sight as the deer run up hill per- 

 haps directly toward it. Get on the rising ground 

 along the edge of the hill where you can see some- 

 thing. 



Not an instant too soon are you. For as you reach 

 the rising ground and show your head and shoulders 

 a yard or two higher there is a sudden hollow-toned 

 "Phew!" a smash and crash of brush, a' k-lnmip-bump- 

 bump-buinp of hoofs on the hard ground, and about 

 fifty yards ahead you see two shining curves of brown 

 capped by white undulating through the brush. 



Bang ! goes your rifle, and the bullet hisses clear 

 over one of the curves and, glancing from the ground 

 beyond, goes whizzing away on high. Almost as 

 quickly the curves disappear behind some bush; you 

 catch sight at the same time of two other deer with 

 heads down disappearing on a trot in a brushy gulch 

 on the other side of the valley; the first two reap- 

 pear with an occasional whirl of glossy brown above 

 the brush down the valley, while your bullets whiz 

 spitefully far above them, 



