A RESCUE. 



S. P. A. 



A goodly number of deer have fallen to 

 my nrle in the past 15 years and I have read 

 of many being killed by fellow sportsmen, 

 but do not recall any account of a party 

 working to save the life of a deer. 



The snow is whirling outside and as I sit 

 before my grate the smoke curling upward 

 from my pipe seems to wind itself into the 

 outlines of the letters M-a-i-n-e, and is so 

 persistent (probably aided by the odor of a 

 pine pillow which seems to grow stronger 

 as the snow deepens), that my memory 

 flashes backward over the past camps and 

 cruises. An amusing little episode stands 

 out clearly and may be of interest. 



It was the latter part of August, some 3 

 years ago, when my guide and I stopped for 

 a few days' fishing on the " Dead water " 

 above Canada Falls on the Upper Penob- 

 scot. 



On the last afternoon of our stay we de- 

 cided to follow up a small brook near the 

 mouth of which we had seen some beaver 

 " cuttings."' About 200 yards of it was 

 passed, where the bottom was *' very close 

 to the top," as Pete expressed it, and then 

 we pushed through the alders to a small 

 pond without seeing any more beaver 

 signs. Each morning we had found where 

 he had been feeding and we concluded it 

 was one lone fellow, probably the last of his 

 kind in that section of the state. The sheet 

 of water that lay before us was anything but 

 beautiful with its low shores and shallow 

 muddy depths. Its surface was covered 

 with lily pads, and, owing to the dry 

 weather, the water had receded until there 

 was a border of soft, spongy mud from 

 20 to 50 feet wide all around, between the 

 grass and the edge of the pond. 



Out in the middle we saw some deer wal- 

 lowing around, up to their necks in mud 

 and water, feeding on the pads. 



" Now for some fun," said Pete as he 

 singled out a big buck and headed for him. 

 The wind was in our faces and we slipped 

 up to within 30 yards of him before he saw 

 us, and started for the shore. It hardly 

 seemed possible that an animal could make 

 such headway under such circumstances, 

 for we had a hard tussle before we reached 

 him, and had the shore been 2 rods nearer 

 I never would have touched him. As it 

 was, I succeeded in spanking him twice be- 

 fore he staggered out onto the shore. He 

 looked anything but the " Lordly monarch 

 of the woods" as he wobbled off out of 

 sight, and seemed to have no inclination to 



stop and *' whistle " at us. We dropped 

 back into the pads and lighting our pipes 

 lay off for a rest. Looking across the lake 

 w ith my glasses I saw something moving 

 in the mud which looked like the head and 

 neck of a big snake, and on closer examina- 

 tion we found it to be the antler of a large 

 buck. It was 20 feet from the water and all 

 we could see was a nose and one eye above 

 the slush. 



We backed the canoe off into the lake 

 and rushed her for the shore so hard that 

 she slid 10 feet over the slippery mud and 

 stopped within 10 feet of the victim. " Xow 

 make a noose of the rope and throw it 

 over the antler," said Pete, and after 2 or 

 3 attempts we were hard and fast to it. 

 Using the mired buck for an anchor we 

 worked the canoe along until we could 

 reach him, and after a while we succeeded 

 in clearing his head and shoulders, but 

 could budge him no farther. A few feet 

 away were several large tufts of grass which 

 offered us a footing and on which we were 

 soon perched, though considerably the 

 worse for mud. We had hitched the rope 

 around the deer's shoulders, leaving an end 

 for each of us to haul on, and at the word 

 we braced back with a whoop, but our 

 mighty effort was too much for my flimsy 

 foundation; it gave way and into the mud 

 I went, shoulders first, like a " dead bird " 

 as he drops into the pond. As I disap- 

 peared, faint rumblings seemed to rise 

 from Pete's roost, and as I floundered out 

 I saw him crawl up onto his bog like a 

 big turtle, all the time puncturing the at- 

 mosphere with unprintable things. We 

 found a place to sit down and then I looked 

 over at Pete. Like myself he was covered 

 with mud and as ugly as a bull moose. I 

 can't say now why we spared that buck in 

 our anger, but we did. There was no fur- 

 ther use being dainty, so we waded in and 

 soon had the satisfaction of seeing him 

 high and dry. 



I cleaned out his mouth, nose and eyes, 

 dosed him with whiskey and water, and 

 then joined Pete to have a pipe and talk 

 it over. As I sat there the absurdity of 

 the affair struck me. and I rolled on the 

 ground shaking with laughter. Pete looked 

 at his clothe^ and then at me. and his feel- 

 ings got the better of him. He cussed the 

 buck, the mud. all the deer in the State and 

 I too came in for my share. After he had 

 finished I suggested that it would be a 

 fitting ending to the affair if a warden 



$59 



