222 ON THE EDGE OF THE WILDERNESS 
ness and anger! One of his does had a buck shot 
in her hind shoulder. It had not cut a cord, to 
be sure, but it pained her, and made her lame and 
sick, and the blood had run down her leg and 
frozen in clots, and now she lay in the warm, thick 
shelter of a stand of young hemlocks, her eyes 
big with pain, and big with terror, too, of the un- 
known affliction, while the others lay or stood 
browsing near by, and Ol’ Buck stared at her 
wonderingly, trying, perhaps, to clear up in his 
mind the mystery of association between the 
man smell, the explosion sound, and this wound 
in his doe’s shoulder. At any rate, the fact 
of association was clear. Look out for the 
man smell! It means danger, pain, death per- 
haps! 
All that week on the mountain OI!’ Buck never 
relaxed his nervous vigilance, and never allowed 
the herd to go out of the deepest woods, or down 
the lower slopes at all, for the guns were sound- 
ing there, and up here, for some unknown reason, 
except for the one time when his doe was hit, no 
guns had been fired. Animals, of course, cannot 
reason. Wise men have often told us so. But, 
