THE CHASE. 387 
report is heard, when, to use a hunter’s expression, “ he lets go 
all holds,” his hind feet, propelled by the great momentum, are 
thrown high in the air as if his very hoofs would be snapped off, 
and he falls “ all in a heap,” or turns a complete somersault, and 
then rolls upon the ground pierced through the heart, or with 
both fore shoulders smashed ; or if the deer was descending in his 
leap, perhaps the shot was higher than was intended, and a 
stitch is dropped in the spinal column. In either case, the mon- 
arch of the forest is laid low, never to rise again. It is a glorious 
moment, and unsurpassed by human experience. I have been 
there, and know how it is myself, and so I speak from knowledge. 
Had the deer been standing, and with a full inspiration, he might 
have made a few bounds before he fell, but in the position de- 
scribed he could never rise again. 
When the fatal shot has been fired by the successful sports- 
man, he winds his horn as a signal of his triumph, and to call his 
companions at the other stations, and the congratulatory meeting 
takes place over the prone form of the noble game. All admire 
his great antlers, which are lifted and dropped by each in turn. 
_ All admire his glossy coat which glistens in the bright sunshine 
like a silk robe, and all feel of the thick coat upon the ribs, and 
with watering mouths —remember they have been fasting since 
daylight — think longingly of the rich venison steaks in a chafing- 
dish for each, dusted with capsicum, seasoned with salt, laved in 
butter ; or, better still, lubricated with some slices of hard, fat 
pork, and flavored with a dash of good old port. Around the 
board so furnished, the sportsmen, after the fatigues of the day, 
with appetites sharpened by long abstinence as well, — selecting 
for the feast a saddle which has hung a few days to ripen and 
flavor, — while the venison slowly simmers in the rich compound, 
recount their experiences, their hazards, their exposures, their 
fatigues, and their triumphs. Then it is that the old settler, whose 
hair is white as snow, but who is yet hale and hearty, and is 
able to mount his horse and to ride him, too, with the best of 
them, is a most welcome companion. Seated at the head of the 
table, he is apt to monopolize the conversation, especially after a 
time, and may even become a little garrulous too, still all listen 
to him with anxious attention and deepest respect. He has been 
there from the beginning. He can tell when all was forest, when 
the first cabin was built, and who made the first clearing. He 
remembers when the whole country was full of game, when a 
slice of pork was a welcome change from venison, bear meat, or 
