260 THE OREGON SPORTSMAN 
they first started out in the morning and when they were about a mile 
from camp they entered a small opening. Biggers was at the upper 
part of the opening and Hanna at the lower part. Hanna was walking 
along near the timber when a big buck jumped out before him within 
about twenty yards and stopped. Hanna was so startled at the sudden 
appearance of the deer that the deer bounded off into the pines without 
Hanna getting a shot. Biggers fired at it from the upper part of the 
opening, but he was perhaps one hundred and fifty yards away and 
did not stop it. 
No doubt other readers of The Sportsman have had the same experi- 
ence as Mr. Hanna. I know I have. I was hunting once on Whiskey 
Creek in the Blue Mountains. I had seen some fresh deer sign that I 
was satisfied had been made that morning or the night before. After 
hunting carefully for several hours, I came to the conclusion that the 
deer had left that vicinity and started away, when, upon entering a 
small opening, a big five-point buck jumped out from behind the 
branches of a fallen tree, gave a snort or two and made for the pines. 
IT had a peep sight that I had just put on my gun and in trying to pull 
back the hammer to cock my rifle I would grab this peep sight and 
draw it back. I did this twice and by the time I realized what I was 
doing Mr. Buck waved a flag at me and disappeared in the thick pines. 
It is needless to add that I have never used the peep sight since while 
hunting deer. 
Hanna and Biggers related that after their experience with the lone 
buck they circled around on top of a high ridge and jumped a bunch of 
eight or ten deer. The deer got wind of them and were about three 
hundred yards off when they first saw them and started down a canyon. 
It was these shots that they took at the departing deer as they were 
going down one side of the canyon and up on the other that Crandall 
and I had heard. So far as they knew they did not hit any of the 
deer. At least they did not see any evidence of that fact. The next 
day we returned to La Grande with a cougar skin but no venison, but 
having had a very pleasant outing which tends to break the monotony 
of life. 
WINTER 
By EVERETT EARLE STANARD, Brownsville, Oregon. 
Spite of her stolid ways and ruthless feet 
Winter is time of all I hold most dear. 
Lover of beauty, I; and much to echeer 
I find in furious storms of snow and sleet. 
The frozen brooklet I am first to greet; 
And when the frost-elves touch each blade and spear 
I range the silvered woods afar and near 
And find my poet’s cup of joy complete. 
I love the shining vapors and the mists, 
The rain-clouds dark with threat of sudden storm. 
The slow fogs are my passion, and the trysts 
Kept by the cloudlets near the peak’s huge form. 
Moan of the gale, shriek of the blast, and tempest eall, 
Piercing cold of the night—I love you all! 
