THE CHASE. 393 
by the prairie fire. I did not halt, and gave no sign that I saw 
him, but slowly pursued my way, bearing, however, to the left, 
so as to get more between the deer and the timber. The position 
of the deer commanded a view-of the intervening valley. Pres- 
ently he laid down in a bunch of high grass. I continued to 
walk my horse slowly across the valley, gradually drawing more 
in the direction of the deer, he believing he was entirely con- 
cealed, and evidently thought he had not been discovered. I ap- 
proached the buck in a direction which would pass him not more 
than thirty yards distant. I kept whistling a low tune all the 
way, and assumed as careless an attitude and action as I could, 
appearing always to look in another direction, though now and 
then a quick glance showed the great antlers, which looked like 
a rocking chair, through the dried grass. I had for the last hun- 
dred yards or more been changing the position of my gun, some- 
times to my shoulder, sometimes to my left arm, and sometimes 
to the pommel of my saddle. When I got opposite him I could 
see the outline of his head laying flat on the ground, but the 
body was concealed. At the proper moment I checked my horse 
by a word, turned in the saddle, raised the gun and fired the 
rifle, before the deer had fully made up his mind that he was dis- 
covered, reserving the buckshot for a fairer mark in case the 
ball missed, and he should jump up. But he did not. He 
straightened himself out, and gave up the struggle with a few 
spasmodic kicks. That was the largest deer killed by the party 
during the hunt, and was a satisfactory conclusion of a fine day’s, 
sport. An old buck is as cunning as a fox, but if you under- 
stand his ways, it is possible to circumvent him, and to do so is 
the very essence of sport. My companions were returning with 
the wagon half a mile away, and had been watching my move- 
ments for some time, but having seen no deer, supposed J had 
fired to bring them that way rather than go out of my way to 
join them, and so were reluctant to answer my signal to come. 
But they came at last, duly admired my trophy, assisted to put 
him on the wagon, when we all returned to camp together with 
as fine a load as I have ever seen brought in from the prairie ina 
single day. We were tired and hungry, no doubt, but all bore a 
hand to hang up the deer, and in a few minutes the trees 
around that camp were festooned in a way to make a hunter’s 
heart rejoice. After bathing the face and hands in the cool 
spring water which burst from beneath the bank below, we 
gathered around our venison stew, which was our favorite dish in 
