THE TAMING OF OL’ BUCK 209 
ing desires, and it was a clash of wills, as well as 
a clash of horns and heads, which the cottagers on 
Hubbard’s Pond beheld across the water one 
September twilight. 
Do you know September twilight over a still, 
fresh-water pond in the woods? If you do, you 
have felt its mystery and charm. You have felt 
how night oozes from the shadows of the trees 
over the water close in shore, and from the trees 
themselves, and yet how the centre of the lake 
holds day still imprisoned in its placid mirror. 
At such an hour, on such a pond, almost anything 
might come from the mystery of the forest on the 
farther shore. What actually came on this occa- 
sion were two stags in mortal combat, followed 
by a doe, the cause of their bitter contention, who 
was curiously unaffected by the sight of the 
struggle, but began peacefully to browse on the 
bushes along the strip of beach, quite as if battles 
for her favors were too common to notice. The 
stags, however, were so intent on their battle that 
they could hardly have observed her attitude of 
uncomplimentary indifference. It is a curious 
_ thing that when men fall to fighting over a 
