A HOLIDAY HUNT. 



J. O. LANDER. 



In 185 — my friend H. and I were in- 

 vited to spend Christmas week at the home 

 of Mr. E., a substantial farmer living in 

 Southwestern Kentucky, and to participate 

 in an annual deer hunt. 



Christmas morning we ate breakfast at 

 Mr. E.'s by lamplight, and by the time we 

 left the table our hunters were saddled at 

 the door. A brisk ride of 2 miles in the 

 crisp air and we pulled up at the ideal 

 Kentucky country home of Squire C, who 

 was to lead the hunt. The Squire gave us 

 a cordial welcome, and was much inter- 

 ested in my rifle, which had one of the 

 few Remington barrels then in existence. 

 The other members of the partv were 

 equipped with the old long Kentucky rifles, 

 and we all carried powder horns, hunting 

 pouches, ammunition and sheath knives, 

 for those were the days of muzzle loaders. 



After presenting us to the ladies of the 

 family Squire C. gave the order for us to 

 mount at once. This was promptly 

 obeyed, and with some 20 others who had 

 arrived we were shortly on our way to the 

 first drive, 3 miles distant, the Squire and 

 Mr. E. at the head of the column and the 

 well trained hounds scouring the thickets 

 in front, being kept together by the sound 

 of a horn in the hands of the Squire. I 

 had never before participated in such a 

 hunt and Mr. E. had promised to instruct 

 me. Soon he dropped back to my side 

 and as we were riding through a thicket 

 along a narrow wagon track he halted, 

 dismounted and told me to tie my horse 

 beside his. We walked to the edge of 

 the thicket and came on an old field, of 

 probably 10 acres, from which the fence 

 had been removed. Thirty feet from the 

 thicket, in the field, stood an old peach 

 tree, and Mr. E., stopping me at it, said: 



"This tree is not a first class shelter, but 

 as you have a good gun and can reach any 

 part of this old field we give you this 

 stand. The dogs will start in at the upper 

 end of the thicket. The deer always come 

 out of the thickets by one of their regular 

 runs or paths and they have several out 

 of this, one of which is opposite this tree. 

 Get behind the tree and raise the hammer 

 of your rifle so as to be ready if the deer 

 come out here. Then remain perfectly 

 still, as the least noise or the slightest mo- 

 tion will turn the deer back " 



A series of short, sharp yelps, followed 

 by the long, deep bay of a hound, inter- 

 rupted him. Listening a moment, he said : 

 "That is those fox hounds, but Trail will 

 settle them. He says deer are in there 

 and I must get to my stand. Remem- 



ber, no motion or noise," and he left me. 

 I was still enough for a while but the 

 air was sharp and about an inch of snow 

 had fallen that morning, so my feet be- 

 gan to acl with coici. I looked about to 

 see where the others were stationed, but 

 no one was in sight ; nothing but the 

 bare, and it seemed to me increasingly 

 cold, field. I began to think my feet 

 were freezing. I had just convinced my- 

 self that in the edge of the thicket was a 

 better place for me and was about to go 

 there when a change in the tone of the 

 dogs caused me to remain where I was 

 and forget the cold. Then came a crash- 

 ing of brush, blasts from the Squire's 

 horn, baying and yelping of dogs and 

 loud halloos of human voices intermingled. 

 The crashing of brush in the thicket grew 

 more distinct until I could trace its course 

 by the sound. As it was apparently ap- 

 proaching me, my every sense was keenly 

 on the alert, I was oblivious of all other 

 surroundings and I had entirely forgotten 

 the cold. My whole being seemed ab- 

 sorbed in that rush. Still on it came, 

 with ever increasing sound, down through 

 the center of the thicket, and finally it passed 

 me. Glancing around I saw many of the 

 hunters skirting the edge of the field and 

 yelling with all their power. I took a step 

 forward, when "Keep your stand !" "Stand 

 by the tree !" came from a dozen of them, 

 and aeain I took my position, but every 

 man had disappeared as if by magic. Then 

 the crackling brush again became more 

 distinct. My rifle was at my shoulder 

 and my eyes felt as if they were coals 

 of fire, through my efforts to see into the 

 dense thicket. At last a movement of the 

 brush, then a magnificent buck, followed 

 by a doe, sprang from the thicket into 

 the open directly in front of and not 30 feel 

 from me, headed to che left and checked 

 their speed to look about. In an instant 

 I had a bead drawn just behind the left 

 shoulder of the buck and pressed the 

 trigger. It was the best mark at game 

 at close range which had ever fallen to 

 my lot, but for the first and only time 

 while I owned her my rifle failed to 

 respond and both of the deer sped away 

 across the field. With both hands I raised 

 my rifle above my head to dash it to th: 

 ground, but catching sight of the de< r 

 I again threw it to my shoulder and fired 

 at long range, but my aim was high. The 

 buck made one or 2 desperate springs and 

 was again in the brush. Then the d 

 came out of the thicket, the bloodhound in 

 them intensified by the chase, and that 



15 



