326 
'dni^ md 0m 
California Deer Hunting. 
"Great Nova Scotia, boys, get a fire started and let's 
hav'e grub!" This seemed exactly to express the idea of 
all present, as we took the pack off the horse at the old 
camp one beautiful summer evening, in fine shape to 
punish a full-grown meal after our tramp over the hills. 
It was not long before the pimgent odor of burning fir 
branches, mingled with the fragrance of the forest, made 
a combination with the frying pan and coffee pot that 
was irrestible to a hungry mortal. 
When the ensuing onslaught w^as over, dishes washed, 
things put to rights, and the odor of tobacco was the 
principal feature in the cool night air, we settled com- 
fortably around the camp-fire and arranged for the mor- 
row's hunt. The conversation naturally turned upon 
the subject of deer, and Josh was requested to give tis 
a life history of the deer in thege parts. 
"All right," he said, "but it is not such a very easy 
thing to do. It is a case of now you see 'em and now you 
don't. In former times, when deer were plentiful and 
unsuspicious, it would have been no difficult matter to 
learn a great deal about them; but nowadays they are very 
shy and wary during the greater part of the year, and 
they fool me completely sometimes. Even the oldest 
hunters do not agree upon some points concerning thein. 
However, here is all I know of the deer inhabiting this 
particular locality [coast region just north of San Fran- 
cisco Bay]. 
"The first period of a deer's life is naturally fawnhood, 
as it might be called. The fawns first see the light in 
March or April; about half the does having twins, or, at 
least, that proportion of fawns seems to survive the first 
critical time of infancy. It is probable that twins are the 
rule, and that many die in the first few days of existence. 
When they are still very small and weak the mother hides 
her fawns in long grass or in the brush, while she feeds 
near them, and the little things will he as close as mice, 
never moving unJess actually run into by a person or some 
natural enemy. The doe may be chased away by some 
stray dog, but until called by their mother the little fawns 
will He perfectly close until almost stepped upon. Some 
are occasionally caught in this way by men or dogs. 
When strong enough to travel easily they usually^ follow 
their mother, as she feeds or goes for water, playing to- 
' gether, chasing each other around and cutting up all sorts 
' of. antics. 
"Some people claim that at fawning time and for a 
■while afterward the doe's track has no scent at all, as a 
matter of protection against any wild animals following her 
and thus discovering her fawns. This I do not believe. 
It seems too absurd. In all probability, however, the 
scent glands in the foot of the very young fawn are not 
developed to any extent, and their own tracks would be 
' difficult to follow. In a couple of months, however, 
the scent of the fawn is fairly strong, for I have known 
dogs to run out at a doe, and then go back and chase her 
two fawns successively, though they had scattered a little 
from where their mother was first started. In fact, during 
the hunting season, in July and August, some dogs will 
' deliberately run the fawn in preference, probably know- 
ing that they have a chance of catching it if it is at all 
weak. It sometimes seems most remarkable how a doe 
will find its fawn again after they both have been chased 
a long distance in different directions. I am afraid that 
stray dogs do a good deal of damage in the very early 
summer by separating them so effectually that they do not 
come together again, and the fawn dies of starvation, or 
else is very much stunted in its growth for want of moth- 
er's milk. In fact, I feel perfectly justified in shooting any 
dogs that are running wild upon my premises at this 
time, and as far as that goes, at any time out of season, 
■ when caught chasing deer. I have seeii several yearlings 
. that were only half the size they should have been, and 
ascribe it principally to this cause. 
"By the middle of September the spots on the fawns 
are very indistinct, or even quite gone, and on the males 
the knobs of horns begin to show. Up to this time the 
does stay with their young ones, usually in small clumps 
of timber such as bay tree, young fir and madrone, or 
near the edge of heavy redwood or fir forests, and do not 
mix with the bucks, though these may be lying_ in the 
brush near the camping places of the does. During the 
mating season the does are apt to be found anywhere,^ as 
. .they move around a great deal, the fawns followiiig 
them. This commences abotit Sept. 7 and lasts till 
November, 
"In winter the deer are all pretty well mixed up, and 
seem to prefer the tops of the ridges, where the air is 
warmer. A nice sunny knoll coverel with short brush 
will look toward spring as if a flock of sheep had lived 
there. A great part of the time the deer live upon 
browse, but in early spring they seem to fancy a little 
green grass, and. may be seen feeding in the open at any 
time of day. In fact, they do this more or less until 
June, though as the days grow longer and warmer they 
are less often met with during the middle of the day. 
"The fawns stay with the does until fawning time comes 
again, when the yearlings scatter around more, though it 
ift a common sight to see an old doe with both its young 
' and its yearling fawns feeding with it. 
"Sometimes in May the deer seem to b^'possessed of 
a playful spirit, and occasionally may be seen chasing 
each other about in a most laughable way. I have never 
been- close enough to one of these scenes to determine 
whether any bucks joined in the sport, but from a dis- 
tance have seen several deer of different sizes apparently 
■- playing a game of 'tag' or' 'hide-and-seek.' One or two 
would hide behind a bush or rock on a rather open hill- 
side, while the others would chase madly around and 
around in an irregular circle. Those which were hidden 
would not move till the others actually ran into them, 
when a wild race would ensue. As they would often dis- 
appear for a while in some near-by thicket it was usually 
impossible to determine the result of the game; but the . 
oart/carried on in'the open was exceedingly interesting. 
\ am inclined to believe that it is indulged in only by 
does, yearlings and fawns, as the horns of the bucks are 
so soft and tender at this time of year that they are very 
careful about exposing them to damage. 
"The bucks shed their horns in December and January 
and are hornless until about the middle of March or the 
first of April, when the new growth starts in the form of 
soft velvety knobs. These grow rapidly, and some time in 
June have reached their full development. During the 
growth of the horns the bucks live either in very open 
high brush or timber, or else in very short brush, so as 
not to injure their antlers when so soft and tender by 
having to force their way through thick bushes. Of 
course individuals vary a good deal as regards the rapid- 
ity of the horn growth, but during June most of them are 
undergoing the hardening process. By July i some of 
the antlers will be thoroughly h,ard and bare, while others 
will still be in the velvet and bleed when scratched; but 
the great majority of the deer will have the velvet all off 
by July 15. During the hardening process the bucks lit 
iti very short chemisal, with their heads well in the sun, or 
else among scattered poison oak bushes or other light 
stuff', where the sun can strike well in. I have several 
times run slap into a buck lying on a sunny hillside in 
a small, isolated clump of poison oak bushes, and occa- 
sionally could have shot one before it jumped, only it 
seemed like taking an unfair advantage. I have also once 
in a while seen a pair of antlers sticking up above the 
chemisal, where it was not over 2Y2 or 3 feet high, but 
in this kind of brush they generally choose a bed where 
their horns cannot be seen, and jet -wherp- the sun can 
shine right down on them. 
"Hunters generally believe that as SOon as their horns 
are sufficiently hard they seek particular trees called 
'rubbing posts,' and rub the velvet oft' against them. 
There has been a good deal of discussion upon this sub- 
ject, of which unfortunately I have seen and heard very 
little. Some people claim that the bucks do not rub off 
the velvet at all; that it simply peels off by itself, as i': 
dries, and that all the marks on the trees we find are made 
by the bucks when they feel in fighting mood in the fall. 
I am inclined to believe that they 'rub' at both periods, or 
perhaps at 'any old time.' In our dry summers the marks 
on the trees do not stay fresh long, and it is impossible 
after a few days to say how long they have been made. I 
have found a great many of these rubbing places, but 
never to my knowledge have I started a buck actually at 
one, nor come across any absolutely fresh scars on the 
trees; but most certainly "have shot bucks in July having 
bits of fresh bark sticking to the rough bases of their 
horns, with the velvet wholly or mostly off. Some day 
I hope to have the time and opportunity to solve this 
problem. However, these 'rubbing posts' are rathe.r 
a curiosity, and are surely used at some period. They 
are for the most part either bay, live oak or willow trees, 
and sometimes a tree will be chosen that stands right out 
on an open hillside, with no brush or other trees near it, 
though generally in the vicinity of a spring or rivulet. 
On the other hand, the rubbing tree is in the midst of a 
thick grove of trees acres in extent — so thick and dark 
that cattle will not penetrate its shades. The bucks seem 
to like a clump of several small trees close together, 
perhaps with the same root, and to work their horns 
among them, the bark of these trees being usually 
scraped and scarred very low down, sometirnes within 
a few inches of the ground! Other places will be live 
oak trees on steep hillsides, with overhanging branches 
reaching almost to the earth, or perhaps willows growing 
out laterally will show scars and scratches along the 
trunks and branches for several feet. 
"Each buck apparently has a particular rubbing tree, 
but whether he visits others or not or seeks the same one 
for several years is rather difficult to determine. But the 
fact remains that these scarred trees are comparatively 
widely scattered and are not often come across. 
"For two or three weeks after the horns are clean the 
bucks stay out in the brush, though apt to be found in 
heavier stuff than before; but after Aug. i they com- 
mence to go deeper into the heavier chaparral or tim- 
ber, probably because of the flies and mosquitoes. By 
the middle of August they seem to be nearly all — at least 
all the large ones — in the heaviest timber or higher brush 
they can find, and at this time are exceedingly difficult, 
tc start out with dogs. They are now moulting, the red 
hair being very long, and this on falling out gives place 
to the blue gray. At this time of year, if you see a deer 
"in the blue,' as it is called, you are pretty safe in taking 
it to be a buck, for the does do not shed quite so early, 
and in fact seem never to become quite so blue as the 
old bucks. These latter lie in the most inaccessible places 
during the moult, generally near a spring or small 
stream, and are now at their fattest. At this period they 
do not travel at all to speak of, but apparently browse and 
drink on the spot, making their beds near the water and 
not going far from it. 'Whether the}-^ ever sleep twice 
in the same bed or not I do not know, but if a person 
crawls through the right sort of spots he will find the 
little rounded oblong places where the dead leaves have 
been pressed down by the deer's form thickly dotted 
about. 
"In the latter part of September and for the greater part 
of October the deer are very bold, and travel about a 
great deal, even throughout the daylight. They have 
gotten over the moult and are seeking mates and fights. 
Occasionally they may be seen from the house or even 
from the much-traveled country road at this time. Or 
perhaps a doe will be seen running along a hillside, stop- 
ping every few moments to look back, and soon a buck 
coming along with his nose to the ground, also stopping 
at intervals to raise his antlered head and see whether his 
mate is in sight. A fierce combat might be witnessed 
by watching with much patience in some likely spot. 
Personally, I have never seen anything more serious than 
a large buck lunging at a small one to keep him from 
interfering with his highness' flirtation; but others more 
fortunate have witnessed mighty struggles, and skulls 
with locked horns have been found. 
"It is a popular belief that age has something to do 
with the number of prongs on a buck's horns, but in this 
region at least there is absolutely no connection between 
the two beyond the second year. A buck at one year 
of age will have 'spikes' (single horns, with no branches 
at all), and at two years should have at least one horn 
forked and generallj'- has both, "Very rarely a two-year- 
old will have spikes, and very long ones at that; but this 
is only a freak. Some few are also found that have a 
long spike on one side and a fairly large fork on the 
other tJiat are surely three and perhaps four years old. 
As a general rule, however, forks appear at two years, 
and after that there is no telling. An old buck may have 
only forks, while a young one has three or four points 
on each horn. I am perfectly convinced that a buck may 
have a number of points one year and be a forked-horn 
the next. Probably after a warm, open winter, with plenty 
of feed, more nourishment reaches the horns than when a 
deer suffers from cold and wet continually. 
"The size of the hornS' — that is to say, the length and 
weight — seems to vary greatly" with locality and also may 
be affected by too much interbreeding. Right on the 
coast, where there is much fog and where the deer are 
more numerous, the horns are much larger than upon 
the deer living ten miles inland. Comparatively small 
deer on the coast may carry a larger pair of horns than 
we would ever dream of seeing upon the biggest bucks 
we have about here, and yet the distance is not over six 
or eight miles as the crow flies. On the other hand, the 
deer forty or fifty miles further in the interior have large 
horns again, apparently having a longer period of growth 
and shedding the velvet later than here. 
"In this locality the deer, when started by dogs, are 
liable to 'take out' in almost any direction, irrespective 
of wind or anything else, though in certain caiions they 
seem to have some preference for particular runs. Yet 
in some seasons they apparently prefer running rjght 
down hill, which means but a small chance for a shot in 
the heavily brushed canons, the greatest opportunity for 
the hunter usually occurring when they run up hill for 
a way, or else run out on about the same level. In other 
parts of this coast down hill seems to be the invariable' 
rule." 
By the time Joshua had finished this discourse, inter- 
rupted as he was by numerous questions put by Ned and 
myself, the fire had burned low and we were ready to 
turn in. We decided the next morning to hunt some 
chemisal points that ran down into a very large and 
heavily timbered caiion about a mile from camp. 
With the first streaks of dawn we were on our way. , 
For some time after we got to work luck was against 
us. Several deer were started, but all "took down" into 
the big caflon and gave us no chance. Finally, the dogs 
ran against an old-timer, which, sneaking through ug, 
passed away below Josh on the dead run. It was a ter- 1 
ribly long quartering shot, but he let drive and broke a, 
hind leg as it was crossing a small opening. It ran ; 
around a very steep hill covered with short brush, and 
we soon heard the dogs baying, their voices sounding 
as if they had the deer away down in the canon. Joshua 
followed the track around the hill as fast as he could go, 
coming on top of a ledge of rock about 10 feet high. 
To his surprise he found that the sound had been thrown 
away from us by this rock, and below, right at his feet,! 
was the buck fighting the dogs. | 
Fearing it would break away down the tremendously 
steep hillside, he plugged away in a great hurry. The 
buck dropped and he jumped down beside it to bleed it, 
laid down his rifle, pulled out his knife and grasped a 
horn with his left hand. Then something happened. 
Josh said he did not know at once what it was, it came: 
so suddenly, but it seemed a sort of cross between a bar- 
gain sale and an avalanche. Ned had heard the shot, 
and running around from his stand saw the affair across; 
a small gulch. He did not stop to study out the details 
as he evolved the idea that he was wanted on short: 
notice, but he described the scene as a grand agglomera-: 
tion of dogs, deer and Josh, with bits of brush, rocks and 
much dust as concomitants. He said it was a moving; 
scene, but Josh afterward maintained that it was strictly 
agricultural, for, as he had unwittingly cultivated the 
deer's acquaintance, he certainly had plowed up the 
ground and rolled down the hillside, and his feelings 
were harrowed. He said this, however, while he was 
endeavoring to gather up the fragments of himself that 
remained, and was perhaps unduly excited. 
Ned said that he could not shoot, because at times 
Josh seemed to have horns and a tail, and at other times 
it looked like a dog fi.ght. Just as he would see the deer 
long enough to think about plugging away Josh would 
come out on top, and then it would be all dogs again in 
another second. So, making his way with all possible 
haste, he arrived on the scene in time to save some rem- 
nants of all concerned by watching his chance, and, when 
the deer came on top again, driving his knife through its 
heart. 
Hearing Ned's shouts and the general racket, I rushed 
toward the spot, but arrived only in time to see him 
give the "coop de grass." Results: One buck, some- 
what the worse for wear; most of Joshua; three badly 
disarranged but grimly excited dogs, and a path dowr' 
the hill that would have done credit to a j'oung cyclone,i 
We hauled Josh out of the debris and laid him oui: 
to get his wind. He was a sight. Some of his wardrobe 
was decorating the hillside in rather disintegrated bits 
and the missing parts were replacel by varying quantitie: 
of blood, dust and muddy perspiration. His first wor.l 
on getting his breath were: "Thanks, awfully; I'm son, 
what scattered, but not demoralized." 
The buck proved to be a very old "forked-horn." Hi: 
front teeth were gone and it seemed as if he had no 
shed his horns in the previous winter, for, though lonj 
and heavy, they were very much blunted at the points 
But for this the little episode might have turned ou 
more seriously. It seems that Josh, as before remarked 
had grasped one horn when he stooped down ti 
bleed the animal, having his knife in his right \12Xii 
Quick as a flash the apparently dying buck had jumper 
up, and with a vicious lunge knocked him flat on hi 
back and commenced probing with his horns for Joshua'i 
interior anatomy. The only thing to be done was t( 
grab the other horn and hold on. This was accomplishei 
without dropping the knife, and it took all of Josh'' 
strength and agility to keep the deer from punching hifl 
in the stomach. He could not use his knife, as he dii 
not dare to let go with his right hand. He would braci 
himself against a bush on the steep hillside and try tt, 
throw the de deer over on its back; but the old warrio 
was too lively for that, in spite of a broken leg and 1 
bullet just above the heart, and when he went over wouLt 
break Josh's-brace and take him along. It was altogethe. 
a lively tussle and Joshua was fortunate in escaping vvitl 
no further damage than a lot of bruises and some pain 
