THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 21 
followed in the direction taken by the deer and was surprised to see 
a two-point buck in a little opening, standing broadside with head 
down. I shot the animal through the heart. Upon examination I 
found it was the buck I had shot at a few minutes before and which 
I had hit under the hip bone. After I had dressed the animal I found 
that I could not lift him off the ground, so the problem of getting to 
camp had to be solved. This happened at about 6:30 in the morning, 
but I felt that this was enough for one day, so I tagged my buck, left 
him in a cool place, and started back to camp. When I had gotten 
to within about two hundred and fifty yards from camp, up jumped 
a nice three-point. He ran up the hill from me, and when I tried to 
shoot it seemed that my gun had become stuck. By the time the 
deer had reached the rimrock and had stopped to look at me, I had 
got the firearm in shooting trim again and I let him have it. At the 
crack of the Remington he began tumbling down over the rocks and 
lodged in a little thicket. I found that the bullet had broken his 
neck. 
This happened about 7:30 A. M., and was so close to camp that 
the shooting awakened the children, and they began to yell: ‘‘Daddy! 
Daddy! what did you shoot for?’’ I told them what I had and to 
hurry and come and we would try and get the deer to camp. This 
was a larger deer than the other one I had killed and it was impos- 
sible to carry it to camp. I proceeded to cut two light poles, about 
ten feet long, and then nailed on four cross pieces, about eighteen 
inches long. This made an arrangement that looked something like 
a ladder. I tied the deer onto this, and by letting the ends drag on 
the ground I could get the deer along pretty well and we finally got 
it into camp. The doctor came into camp about noon and reported 
seeing no deer. The children had a big piece of watermelon saved 
for him, and after eating a hearty dinner, the doctor and I were ready 
to go after the first deer I had killed. We took my ‘‘ladder’’ along, 
and by taking turns at the hauling we got the animal into camp in 
good shape. 
Thursday I rested in camp, the doctor having left for home; but 
the next morning I got up bright and early and went south, past the 
places where I had killed my two first deer. I had gotten about a 
mile from camp when I saw a nice buck looking at me about eighty 
yards off. He was standing behind ‘a fir tree with only his head and 
neck visible. He dropped at the crack of the rifle. Right here is 
where I began to have the blues. My last deer tag was gone. It 
meant no more hunting for deer for me. In order to get the deer 
to camp I had to resort to my ladder again. After getting it made 
and the deer tied on, I found that I could start all right, but the 
sledding was bad and it took a long time to arrive in camp with my 
170-pound buck. 
Mr. T. A. Weinka and family arrived in camp that evening. Ted 
was eager to try his luck, so the next morning we were up and staretd 
early. As I had used all the tags the law allowed me, I shouldered 
the shotgun in hope that I might see some game birds. We went 
south along the east side of the mountain and were about one-half 
mile from camp when up jumped three bucks. We could only get a 
glimpse of them as they ran through the trees on the opposite side 
of the canyon and down the ridge. Ted emptied his high-power gun 
at them, and every time he shot, he cut off the top of some tree. 
As it began to rain, we returned to camp and after packing up our 
outfits returned home, 
