THE TAMING OF OL’ BUCK 227 
lumbermen was a Canuck by the name of Johnny. 
Johnny’s command of English was largely con- 
fined to a whole-hearted but quite innocent pro- 
fanity, and his arms were admittedly stronger 
than his head. But he had a warm corner in his 
heart for animals. He looked at the tracks for 
three days, saying nothing, and then he remarked, 
“TI tink me dose deer mebbe havin’ pretty hard 
tam.” 
The boss only grunted, but as Johnny was his 
best man with a team, he made no remonstrance 
when he saw him load an extra forkful of hay on 
the outgoing sledge. 
The next morning Johnny saw that the deer 
had walked around the hay, without eating it. 
He went back at noon and brought up some salt 
and sprinkled it over the hay. 
“ Hi, Johnny, that’s a salt lick—you’ll have the 
game warden after you—twenty-five dollars 
fine!’ somebody called. 
“T vink no,” said Johnny, with his childlike 
smile, continuing to sprinkle. 
But the salt worked little better. Ol Buck 
sniffed it, and took a lick or two, but it was 
