Camp Comfort 
Its Game and its Ways—Initiating a Deer Slayer 
—Shooting Under Difficulties—Part III. 
By H. H. BRIMLEY 
T HE ground was so dry that it seemed inad¬ 
visable to have a deer drive that afternoon, 
so it was proposed that we wade back to 
where the morning’s quarry lay, so that K. could 
shoot a few yellowlegs for the camp pot while 1 
skinned the 'gator. And this we did, but the temp¬ 
tation to try for those big bass once more im¬ 
pelled me to take fishing tackle along. The only 
result of the fishing was one yellow perch, one 
warmouth and one small bass, all of which were 
returned to the water, and a lot of time killed 
that should have been put in on the skinning 
job. As a result sunset came and the work only 
half done. The contents of the alligator’s 
stomach were examined, and greatly to my sur¬ 
prise no bass were found among them. The 
only food remains were one small sucker and 
another small fish pretty well digested. So it 
was evident that, though he may have worked 
on the nerves of the bass, he certainly had not 
done much recently to their physical detriment. 
K.’s gun had been going at intervals, and 
when he joined me for the return wade back to 
camp, he had a nice little bunch of yellowlegs to 
take along. 
Next morning the north drive was determined 
on. With only two guns to cover the stands it 
was a questionable proceeding, but we all wanted 
K. to get his first deer. Only two dogs were 
taken by D., who was to do the driving. K. 
took the pine stand, the position being up a 
small pine that gave a good view across an open 
pocosin for 400 yards toward the position on 
which I killed the small buck that shed as it 
fell, previously described. It was the same stand 
from which N. had killed the second deer on 
the morning in question, and is regarded as the 
best stand on this drive. I had the pond stand 
and my position was on a ladder propped against 
a gum sapling 300 yards behind and to the right 
of K. 
The dogs had their deer up and running be¬ 
fore we were placed, and it was not long before 
their music sounded perceptibly nearer. I knew 
the ground better than K. and saw the deer first 
—a nice buck. He came out behind K’s right, 
but was unobserved by him. Judging from the 
deer’s actions he must have seen K. move, and 
this turned him. Leaping gracefully over the 
tangle he. made back diagonally toward the di¬ 
rection from which he had come, approaching 
A DEER STAND IN THE OPEN WOODS. 
LANDING TO HUNT FOR BEAR SIGN. 
THE CYPRESS STAND, WHERE MANY DEER HAVE BEEN 
KILLED. 
nearer to my stand in doing so. It was too un¬ 
certain a shot to risk, so I waited for him to 
stop to listen to the" dogs. This he did when 
something over a hundred yards away. He was- 
completely hidden from view, but another leap 
or two would put him behind and among high 
thick bushes and most likely out of my sight 
for good. So 1 covered the place where I felt 
certain his shoulder stopped, and fired. For a 
moment I thought the bullet had done its work— 
no movement following the shot—but only for a 
moment. A couple of wide leaps and he was out 
of my sight and gone. 
The dogs were not far behind. I could see 
them at intervals through the bushes, their deep 
voices ringing loud on the trail. They had some 
trouble where the deer turned, but picked up 
the scent again and passed out of my sight. “No 
deer to-day/’ thought I, when I saw K. begin 
to shift his position in the tree and get ready. 
He was too far away for me to observe his 
movements in detail, but that much was plainly 
visible. Then the crack of his automatic rang 
out. Again it spoke, again and again, until the 
magazine was empty. By this time the dogs’ 
voices had died away in the distance, and as K. 
still remained in the tree, I concluded that at 
the best he had Only wounded the deer. Again 
a shot broke the stillness, but I could not locate 
it. Then the horn blew—three long notes—to 
signify the hunt was over, followed by two short 
ones that meant, “Help needed.’’ 
K. and myself descended from our perches 
and made our way over to where the horn was 
still sounding. There we found D. and Mr. B. 
who had joined him, standing over the body of 
a fine buck. “Who got him?” we asked. “D. 
killed him,” replied Mr. B., “and it’s his first 
deer.” So I wet my finger in the warm blood 
of the game and made the orthodox cross mark 
on D.’s forehead to give him the freedom of the 
hunter’s craft. Then he went to explaining. He 
and Mr. B. had heard the shots, had heard the 
dogs take the deer they were after down into 
the impenetrable thickets of Bear Branch and on 
toward the lake. They were moving on toward 
us when D. suddenly stopped, whipped his gun 
off his shoulder, as a deer broke through the 
thicket at close quarters and heading away, and 
fired his load of buckshot into the back of the 
neck. It was a fair shot at close range and the 
deer fell in his tracks. D. was proud. 
The nearest point to which a team could come 
was about a mile away, but no pocosin to take 
it through, and a good path most of the way. 
“Dat’s diffunt,” as LTncle Remus would say, to 
the conditions under which we had labored a 
few days before. 
Not having the stretcher outfit with us I cut 
the regulation pole, trimmed it, and then pre¬ 
pared the deer, which Mr. B. had meantime 
cleaned. To begin with I like a good thick pole. 
It is easier on the shoulders, and you get so 
much less of that unpleasant dancing motion 
that is so hard on the shoulders with a limber 
