166 BIG GAME OP NORTH AMERICA. 



it was beautiful, and for a moment I almost forgot the busi- 

 ness in band. But this is a panorama tbat is not lasting — 

 a buck and a hunter looking one another in the face, not 

 five rods apart. I had taken him as much by surprise as 

 he had me, and, with an old buck's usual manner, he 

 paused for a moment to see what was up; it was only to 

 learn what was down. 



I raised my rifle slowly, but the moment it ranged on his 

 body it met the sun-glare, and I could not see the sight — 

 hardly the muzzle. I lowered to the ground again, took 

 sight there, raised to a level, and fired. The buck wheeled, 

 and was out of sight. Of course ! Even a barn-door is not 

 hit by merely pointing one's gun; and I worked in another 

 cartridge, and started Up the mound. Just over the crest 

 lay the gallant stag, stretched out and dead. My gun, 

 after all, had been leveled at his heart — one wheel, a fall, 

 and all was over. 



Now, just think of the variety of incident in hunting — 

 one of the things that give it constant charm! No two of 

 the Deer I had shot had been killed under the same con- 

 ditions; and this fine creature had fallen to me in a way 

 that would not happen twice in a life- time. And here let me 

 say, that I am writing actual facts, not fiction — things that 

 actually occurred, and precisely as I state them. My pur- 

 suit of the Mule Deer has been under such favoring circum- 

 stances that I have nothing to invent or to make up in 

 writing about him. I, perhaps, ought to have stated this 

 definitely before, but hope that it was not needed. 



And was he not a beautiful creature as he lay there! He 

 had died literally without pain, for the ball had broken no 

 bones, and, passing through his heart, had given, probably, 

 no sensation. This is always a satisfaction in our killing. 

 Thus far every Deer had been dead when I came up to it, 

 and I had no second shooting to do to put them out of pain. 

 It is a great relief. 



After I had bled my Deer, I sat down to look at him, 

 before the unpleasant second act. He was rolling in fat and 

 of perfect coat and form, about five or six years old, judg- 



