A DEER HUNT IN WATTENWYE. 



JOHN BOYD 



We were 5 of those enthusiasts who 

 never think of rest when the shooting or 

 fishing seasons roll around — the kind for- 

 ever planning sports that are to be. Ordi- 

 nary, every day shooters are we, never yet 

 unlucky enough to blossom out as big bag- 

 sports, though last year we worked from 

 dawn to dark to circumvent the slick and 

 supple deer of the Wattenwye woods. 



It is of those memorable days I write, 

 and it was for just such sport that we 

 planned our outing. It is needless to speak 

 of the work preliminary to such a trip, 

 and it would be tiresome to recite the 

 roster, route, time table and outfit list of 

 our expedition. Suffice it to say, we were 

 Torontonians, of middle age, medium stat- 

 ure, and average intelligence. So much 

 about the firm < f Baker. Cameron, Zock, 

 Hodge & Co. 



The hunting grounds selected are lo- 

 cally known as the Distress river and Deer 

 lake ranges, and lie Northwest of Sun- 

 dridge, a station in the Parry sound dis- 

 trict of Ontario. These we reached the 

 day before the hunting season opened, and 

 that day was spent in engaging guides and 

 getting acquainted with the lay of the 

 land. 



Our chief guide was a German, formerly 

 gamekeeper in the Fatherland. He was 

 able to make himself partly understood in 

 broken English, and was a tireless walker. 

 His aides were 2 strapping young settlers 

 who knew the country well; and this trio 

 set themselves to find us venison or to 

 perish in the attempt. 



November 1st came in with a cold East 

 wind that penetrated to one's bones. Fac- 

 ing it at 5.30 that morning gave us a 

 chance to judge how we should enjoy the 

 climate during the coming 2 weeks. 

 We first took to the ridges East of Deer 

 lake, where a doe was sighted at short 

 range by Cameron and Zock. An X was 

 scored against the shots, to be interpreted 

 a miss. We then skirted to the Northeast 

 of South bay, but nothing rewarded our 

 tramp. Following the broken ground, we 

 crossed the table land and renewed the 

 hunt West of the Distress river. There 

 similar luck was recorded. 



The next day we tried W T est of the Ni- 

 pissinsr road, but owinsr to other hunters 

 being in the vicinity with dogs we failed to 

 sight hair. However, the woods bore 

 signs of deer as plentiful as hornets in hay- 

 ing time. 



We murmured a little, and some even 



growled at not having venison for supper. 

 Under the circumstances grouse were not 

 considered more than mere tenderfoot fare, 

 so it was resolved that the next day we 

 must make a great effort to at least see a 

 white flag. 



We did see 3 of them, but the sight came 

 so unexpectedly and at such an unusual 

 time and place that the animals were fully 

 250 yards away before we could unlimber 

 our rifles. Explanations of how it hap- 

 pened were then in order, and the tale 

 was told and retold. Everyone in the re- 

 gion, it seemed, heard the volley firing, 

 or Maxim gun practice, as some styled it, 

 and each time we were asked about it we 

 had to put on our sweetest manners and 

 endeavor to exonerate all concerned from 

 any blame. 



Later in the morning Hodge sent 2 shots 

 at a doe that came up to bid him good- 

 day. Heavy underbrush and a mild at- 

 tack of buck fever are the reasons entered 

 opposite his X in the score book. 



That night in camp disappointment gave 

 way to mirth, and the unfortunates who 

 had failed to score were roasted on the 

 gridiron of jollity. 



The fourth day we scored and scored 

 early. About 9 o'clock Hodge spied a 

 good sized buck crossing a clearing some 

 distance ahead of him. He sent 2 shots 

 after it, but missed with both. Then recol- 

 lecting that Baker was somewhere in the 

 direction the game had taken he called in 

 his fine Union Station voice, "Look out!" 

 Baker heard him and assumed the ready — 

 present — fire style of position. A moment 

 later he saw to his satisfaction the animal 

 coming along broadside to him. He fired, 

 and the .30-30 bored the buck at the shoul- 

 der. The deer weighed about 175 pounds 

 and had a nice rack of horns, with sym- 

 metry enough to make a hunter's heart 

 glad, especially if he happened to be the 

 shooter. 



Hodge was walking along the trail one 

 morning when he noticed ahead of him 1 

 large doe which had evidently neither seen 

 nor heard him. He threw up his rifle, and 

 as it cracked he saw the deer fall, turn 

 over on its back, and beat the air wildly 

 with its legs. Feeling sure it was done 

 for, he ran up, unsheathing his knife a- In- 

 got closer, when to his astonishment the 

 animal suddenly bounded to its feet and 

 with 2 or 3 leaps was out of sisrht in the 

 deep woods. A pint or more of blood lay 

 on the frozen ground, and a gory trail 



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