Three Boys and a Deer. 
Ln recalling past pleasures we appear to dwell 
j >re fondly on those of our earliest experiences, 
lich though not attended with the greatest re- 
its, come to the front in our reminiscent 
i jods because in our inexperience they have 
orded us joys which do not come with the 
j ^ater achievements of maturer years and riper 
j perience. After gratifying to some extent, an 
/incible craving for everything connected with 
jack woods life by going to the sparsely settled 
>ions of the Rocky Mountains, building a log 
1 bin and residing there as ranchman, hunter, 
ipper and guide for a number of years, and 
tting all the experiences connected with such 
life, I find my fondest memories of big-game 
nting constantly settling on and lingering 
i igest on the hunt in which I saw and killed 
I r first deer. 
i Then it was that I reached the highest pos- 
1 de state_of human, enjoyment and satisfaction 
pendant upon such occasions. 
A few deer were still scattered through the 
; tensive forests along Blacklick Creek in Cam- 
jia county, Pennsylvania, and about every man 
i 10 was able to, and inclined to carry a gun 
d had no terror of a long tramp, was out when 
j ere was tracking snow, making the chances of 
tting a deer very limited, and insuring con- 
atulations and envy to the few lucky indi- 
j duals who secured their deer. My brother 
i art and I hardly having reached the years of 
; anhood, lured by a good tracking snow, left 
ir home with a muzzleloading rifle and a muz- 
eloading smoothbore which shot a ball some- 
ing heavier than an ounce and shot somewhere 
the general direction in which it was aimed. 
r e started for the home of our aunt, ten miles 
ward the deer hunting grounds. 
On arrival we found that our cousin Charley 
Tmeron, about my age, had gone out that morn- 
g on a deer hunt. We stood our guns in the 
I irner of the good old-fashioned kitchen, while 
e partook of a supper of buckwheat cakes and 
usage. 
' About g o’clock that night Charley came in 
om his hunt, relieving the anxiety of the 
tmily. All who are blessed with an appreciative 
j :nse of interest in hunting know how intently 
e listened to his report of the day’s hunt which 
j'. gave between great mouthfuls of buckwheat 
j ikes. The substance of it was, he followed a 
g buck all day, at one time coming within a 
(jry few yards of it, when his muzzleloading 
fle snapped as a result of the cap getting damp, 
/hen night overtook him he was in an un- 
imiliar territory many miles from home, but 
;ing a famous walker he covered the distance 
i about four hours. Next came the careful in¬ 
jection of our guns and final preparations for 
i early start next morning and we went to bed. 
By the kind indulgence of the female portion 
f the household, who were interested in any- 
, ling that added to our pleasure, we were up 
id had breakfast long before daylight, but 
iere was no waiting; starlight was good enough. 
Charlie, Burt and I, who had the hunting in¬ 
stinct born in us, and a neighbor boy, whom we 
considered as an elephant on our hands, started 
for the deer woods, the nearest point of which 
was about four or five miles away. 
We were well into the forest by daylight. It 
was suggested that we divide into pairs to better 
assure our success. Somehow, Burt and Charley 
drifted together, leaving the elephant with me. 
I made no protest, but smiled in my sleeve. 
After traveling together a few minutes I sug¬ 
gested that it would double our chances of find¬ 
ing a deer track if we were to separate about 
a hundred yards so we could just see each other 
and pointed out the general direction he should 
keep. When the opportunity was ripe I sud¬ 
denly disappeared, changed my course and was 
hunting alone. 
After traveling in the same general direction 
till nearly noon without seeing any deer sign, T. 
suddenly saw some animal away in the distance 
make about two jumps and disappear. I thought 
it to be a large dog and supposed it to be chas¬ 
ing a deer, as it was galloping at a long and 
regular gait as some animal which had made 
a long run just coming within my sight as it 
passed between trees. It was an open beech 
ridge, enabling one to see a moving object at 
a long distance. I kept on, as the object was 
straight ahead. 
Imagine my surprise when I came up and 
found the fresh tracks of a big deer. I then 
pulled myself together and realized that I had 
for the first time seen a real, live wild deer in 
the woods and felt repaid for my day’s tramp 
if I saw nothing more. Noting the direction 
from whence it came and the direction which 
Charley and Burt had gone, I thought it very 
likely that they had started it and were in pur¬ 
suit. I wrote my name on the snow and bade 
them follow, while I followed just fast enough 
to keep warm. Very soon I saw them coming 
on the trail with strides long and fast. We fol¬ 
lowed rapidly, as the tracks still showed it to 
be running. It was getting well along in the 
afternoon and I suggested that we were a long 
distance from home and the chances against us. 
Notwithstanding Charley’s experience of the day 
before, he declared his intention of staying right 
with it. Soon after that it got down to a walk 
and then crossed a public road. It was beyond 
our knowledge of the country, but we planned 
further hostilities. 
The deer entered a thicket of scrub oak brush 
which retain their leaves all winter, making a 
likely place to stop. The thicket was about sixty 
rods wide and extending possibly a half mile 
or more from the road where it was joined by 
heavy hemlock timber. I suggested that Burt 
go to one side of the thicket while I go to the 
other side, travel rapidly as far as our judg¬ 
ment might dictate, then go into the thicket 
where there might appear a likely runway and 
wait, while Charley, after waiting fifteen minutes, 
would trail through. 
I went along the road to the edge of the 
thicket, then down through the field along the 
side on a full run, almost to the heavy timber, 
then in through the oak brush, and when about 
half way through I came to a rather open spot 
which looked likely enough, and there I was dis¬ 
couraged to see the fresh tracks of a running 
deer going toward the heavy timber and never 
doubted but it was the one we were after, and 
we had previously decided to give it up if it 
got into the heavy timber. Thinking to wait 
there till the boys would come through, I gave 
myself over to reflecting upon the time of day, 
the distance from home and the unaccountable 
fascination in such pursuit which would cause 
men to actually suffer with cold, hunger and 
weariness, with only a bare possibility of being 
successful, when my reveries were suddenly 
broken by the report of Charley’s gun only a 
short distance away, followed by a crashing 
through the brush, and a fine big buck came in 
sight fifty yards away, not with the usual big 
bounds, but running close to the ground and 
coming straight toward me until near me, then 
made a turn and went tearing past, perhaps 
twenty yards away. 
When directly opposite me I pulled the hair 
trigger of the old smoothbore, and the buck with 
a baa! turned a complete somersault and landed 
with his head behind, so dead that he never 
made a kick. 
To try to describe my feelings would be use¬ 
less. Jumping over a log I walked up to him, 
large, fat and sleek, with fine antlers, a perfect 
beauty of which any old hunter might have been 
proud. I looked at the deer, then looked all 
around me to see if it was a fact or if I was 
dreaming. 
When the boys came up we congratulated our¬ 
selves and then it dawned upon our self-satisfied 
minds that we had a task of no mean propor¬ 
tions ahead of us, and that in’ more than one 
sense it was not all of hunting to hunt. A good 
many miles at least from home; ten inches of 
snow on the top of deep mud; 4 o’clock in a 
December evening, a big deer, three guns and 
three tired boys—that was about the situation 
as we could see it. I took off my suspenders 
and tied them around the deer’s horns. We then 
cut a strong stick, put it through and Charley 
and I started with a right good will to drag 
our deer homeward, while to Burt, who was the 
youngest, was assigned the task of taking the 
three guns, and making all haste, go home and 
send Charley’s brother with his horse to meet 
us. Mile after mile we plodded on; darkness 
came, but still no relief. We kept on for two 
hours after dark when we came to an old saw¬ 
mill, two miles or more from home, and I re¬ 
fused to pull any further. We hung our deer 
up in the mill and got home about 9 o’clock to 
find that by some misunderstanding they had 
gone the wrong road with the horse and missed 
us. 
After freezing all night our buck weighed 
next day 139 pounds. The pleasures of that day, 
spiced with its hardships, did not cease with the 
close of the day, and their end is not yet. 
Emerson Carney. 
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