THE DEER FAMILY. 



83 



thick and have so many tines that they would 

 have to be assigned to the wapiti rather than 

 to our stag. All these stags have the same 

 habits, the same keenness of sense, the same 

 savage impulses at the breeding season, and 

 we are obliged to add the same stupidity. 

 Notwithstanding repeated efforts at domesti- 

 cation, they remain but little adapted for the 

 companionship of man, but for all that ex- 

 cellent animals for the chase. 



If the varieties are considered as belonging 

 to the same species as the red-deer, the 

 territory occupied by this species is a re- 

 markably large one, extending as far as the 

 limit of forests in the temperate zones of 

 both hemispheres. Everywhere the red-deer 

 is hunted with eagerness, although its flesh 

 is not very much to be recommended, for, 

 according to our experience, it resembles 

 tough beef with thick fibres. But for the 

 sportsman the chase of the stag has always 

 been one of the keenest of pleasures. The 

 chase proper is rather an exercise in horse- 

 manship than a true hunt. Almost every- 

 where in civilized Europe the stag has given 

 way before the persecution which it has well 

 deserved on account of the devastation which 

 it commits in fields and forests. It is now 

 seldom found except in the large inclosures 

 reserved for game. 



[Of the species or varieties above referred to the 

 commonest in America is that known as the 

 Cariacou {Cervus virginianus). It is smaller and 

 more elegant than the red-deer, and throughout 

 the southern part of North America, as far as 

 43° N., it is a favourite object of the chase. This 

 deer is the one which American sportsmen have 

 the most frequent opportunities of hunting. " It is 

 where the country is divided into ranges of wood- 

 clad mountains, or high hills divided by valleys, 

 down which rivers or creeks run, or in which 

 lakelets are situated, that the proper theatre is 

 found for running the deer with hounds. For this 

 purpose packs of greater or less number are kept 

 as in different parts of Europe. In such localities 

 different runways are adopted by the deer, where 

 they pass the water-courses in going from one 

 elevation to another, or where they approach the 



little lake for bathing. Several sportsmen engage 

 in the hunt. Early in a still, frosty morning they 

 repair to the ground, generally on horseback, when 

 one, and sometimes two, are stationed at each of 

 the well-known runways, when their horses are con- 

 cealed and the hunters secretly station themselves so 

 as to command the crossing place and its approach. 

 The hounds, in lead, are sent on to the mountains, 

 and at a likely place they are slipped, and the hunt 

 commences. So soon as the deer is started, the 

 hounds give tongue. This is the signal anxiously 

 listened for by the watchers at the several runways. 

 Far away in the distant mountain, at first like a 

 faint murmur, the sound is heard, uncertain whether 

 it is the baying of the dogs or the whisper of an 

 insect. The note soon becomes more distinct, and 

 it is certain that the game is afoot. Anxiety now 

 increases to determine who occupies the favoured 

 location. All along the line the attention of each 

 watcher is strained to the utmost tension, to detect 

 by the sound the course selected by the deer. 

 Rifles are cocked, not a whisper is breathed, not a 

 twig is broken, not a leaf is stirred. Every wander- 

 ing thought is summoned back and absorbed in 

 the excitement of the moment. The course of the 

 hounds may be traced by their voices, each listener 

 calculating the chances of their arriving at his stand. 



"This is the moment when the inexperienced 

 hunter is liable to make his greatest mistake. He 

 forgets that the deer is not with the dogs, but may 

 be a mile or more ahead of them. He listens to 

 the dogs, and his eyes are in the direction whence 

 the sound comes. If they seem to approach him, 

 he forgets that the game may be already upon him. 

 When he least expects it there is a rushing noise, 

 a crackling of the bush, and the deer emerges from 

 the thicket, and with an elastic bound is already 

 at the ford, and with a few lofty leaps is across 

 the creek, and like a flash disappears in the dark 

 covert beyond, before the startled watcher, quaking 

 from head to foot with the buck-fever, could more 

 than bring his gun to his face and fire a random 

 shot, when all is still again, save the tumultuous 

 beating of his own heart. 



" Less fortunate is the deer if he makes the run- 

 way occupied by the experienced sportsman. Only 

 thinking of the danger behind him, and confident 

 of his powers to far outstrip the baying pack, he 

 bounds through the forest, proudly throwing aloft 

 his great branching antlers, as if in derision, bidding 

 defiance to his pursuers, nor dreaming of danger 

 before, he fearlessly rushes to the little opening on 



