THE LIFE AND DEATH OF LUCY 117 
the ridge above the den. All that day the cats 
had heard distant gunshots, both from the 
swamps on the plain below, and even from the 
mountainside, and had noticed that the deer were 
breaking up the slope in unusual numbers. But 
they didn’t know it was the opening day of the 
deer hunting season. They only knew the deer 
were up on the mountain in great numbers by mid 
afternoon. On discovering the little doe, they 
tried their best to stalk it close enough to make 
a sure spring, but the deer was too quick for 
them, and bolted, over the ledge. The four cats 
bounded in full pursuit. 
Down went the deer, over the precipitous 
rocks, twenty feet at a jump, the cats, with Lucy 
in the lead, only a jump or two behind. Below 
the ledges came the belt of tumbled, fallen 
boulders and rock fragments, and here the doe 
had a harder time, as she had to work between the 
rocks, while the cats could leap from top to top. 
Lucy almost had her once. In fact, her claws 
did draw blood from the deer’s hind quarters as 
she sprang from behind. But the deer just got 
through, and broke into the dense laurel. Here 
