H FOLLOWING 
THE DEER 
166 
Snow Bound 
brown earth, just four feet below 
their hungry bills and noses. 
The winter had been unusually 
severe. Reports had come to me 
from the North Woods of deep 
snows, and of deer dying" of starva- 
tion and cold in their yards. I confess 
that I was anxious as I hurried along. 
Now that the hunt was over and the 
deer had won, they belonged to me 
more than ever, even more than if 
the stuffed head of the buck looked 
down on my hall, instead of resting 
proudly over his own strong shoul- 
ders. My snowshoes clicked a rapid 
march through the sad gray woods, 
while the March wind thrummed an 
accompaniment high up among the 
