Part 2 (1/2)
The deer is called a tie only when he is ”at bay”; the stag will fight when he can no longer flee; and the doe will defend her young in the face of ets little credit for this eleventh-hour bravery But I think that in any truly Christian condition of society the deer would not be conspicuous for cowardice I suppose that if the An ros, and fired at from behind fences every time she ventured outdoors, she would becoolden era comes which the poets think is behind us, and the prophets declare is about to be ushered in by the opening of the ”vials,” and the killing of everybody who does not believe as those nations believe which have the entle-hearted deer will be respected, and will find that ars and panthers If the little spotted fawn can think, it must seem to her a queer world in which the advent of innocence is hailed by the baying of fierce hounds and the ”ping” of the rifle
Hunting the deer in the Adirondacks is conducted in the most manly fashi+on There are several methods, and in none of them is a fair chance to the deer considered A favorite method with the natives is practiced in winter, and is called by the is for one o alone into the forest, look about for a deer, put his wits fairly against the wits of the keen-scented aniet lost in the attempt There seems to be a sort of fairness about this It is private assassination, te yourof the natives has all the rohter of sheep in an abattoir As the snow gets deep, ate in the depths of the forest, and keep a place trodden dohich grows larger as they trae becomes a sort of ”yard,” surrounded by unbroken snow-banks The hunters then make their way to this retreat on snowshoes, and from the top of the banks pick off the deer at leisure with their rifles, and haul them away to market, until the enclosure is pretty much e the deer; it is also one of the overnht to be popular The only people who object to it are the summer sportsmen They naturally want some pleasure out of the death of the deer
Some of our best sports deer through as many seasons as possible, object to the practice of the hunters, who hter asseason as they can Their own rule, they say, is to kill a deer only when they need venison to eat Their excuse is specious What right have these sophists to put themselves into a desert place, out of the reach of provisions, and then ground a right to slay deer on their own improvidence? If it is necessary for these people to have anything to eat, which I doubt, it is not necessary that they should have the luxury of venison
One of thethe poor deer is called ”floating” The person, with ht, seats himself, rifle in hand, in a canoe, which is noiselessly paddled by the guide, and explores the shore of the lake or the dark inlet In the bow of the boat is a light in a ”jack,” the rays of which are shi+elded from the boat and its occupants A deer comes down to feed upon the lily-pads The boat approaches him He looks up, and stands a ht flames In that moment the sportsman is supposed to shoot the deer As an historical fact, his hand usually shakes so that heli Usually, however, the hunters reet stiff from cold and the cramped position in the boat, and, when they return in theto camp, cloud their future existence by the assertion that they ”heard a big buck”the shore, but the people in cahtened off
By all odds, the favorite and prevalent , theThe hounds are sent into the forest to rouse the deer, and drive him from his cover They cli on the track of the poor beast The deer have their established runways, as I said; and, when they are disturbed in their retreat, they are certain to atte one which invariably leads to some lake or stream
All that the hunter has to do is to seat himself by one of these runways, or sit in a boat on the lake, and wait the co fro brutality of the hounds, will often seek the open country, with a mistaken confidence in the humanity of man To kill a deer when he suddenly passes one on a runway demands presence of mind and quickness of ai into the lake, requires the rare ability to hit aobject the size of a deer's head a few rods distant Either exploit is sufficient todeer, and cut his throat, is a surevenison, and has its charms for some
Even women and doctors of divinity have enjoyed this exquisite pleasure
It cannot be denied that we are so constituted by a wise Creator as to feel a delight in killing a wild ani a tame one
The pleasurable excitearded from the deer's point of view I happen to be in a position, by reason of a lucky Adirondack experience, to present it in that light I am sorry if this introduction toto the reader: it is too late now to skip it; but he can recoup hi of the 23d of August, 1877, a doe was feeding on Basin Mountain The night had been war opened in an undecided way The as southerly: it is what the deer call a dog-wind, having co of ”a southerly wind and a cloudy sky” The sole co little fahose brown coat was just beginning to becreature as lovely as the gazelle The buck, its father, had been that night on a long tramp across the mountain to Clear Pond, and had not yet returned: he went ostensibly to feed on the succulent lily-pads there ”He feedeth a the lilies until the day break and the shadows flee away, and he should be here by this hour; but he co upon the hills” Clear Pond was too far off for the young ht's pleasure It was a fashi+onable watering-place at this season a the deer; and the doe ht s of a frivolous society there But the buck did not coht Nippin Was he alone? ”I charge you, by the roes and by the hinds of the field, that ye stir not nor awake , daintily cropping the tender leaves of the young shoots, and turning fro The fawn had taken hiscontentedly, with his large, soft brown eyes, every reat eyes followed her with an alert entreaty; and, if the , the fawn made a half movement, as if to rise and follow her You see, she was his sole dependence in all the world But he was quickly reassured when she turned her gaze on him; and if, in alarm, he uttered a plaintive cry, she bounded to him at once, and, with every demonstration of affection, licked his ain
It was a pretty picture,--maternal love on the one part, and happy trust on the other The doe was a beauty, and would have been so considered anywhere, as graceful and winning a creature as the sun that day shone on,--slender limbs, not too heavy flanks, round body, and aristocratic head, with sent, affectionate eyes
How alert, supple, free, she was! What untaught grace in everypose when she lifted her head, and turned it to regard her child! You would have had a co, a baby kicking about ae above the Au Sable, in the valley belohile its youngin the color of a reluctant landscape, giving a quick look at the sky and the outline of the Twin Mountains, and bestowing every third glance upon the laughing boy,--art in its infancy
The doe lifted her head a little with a quick motion, and turned her ear to the south Had she heard so? Probably it was only the south wind in the balsams There was silence all about in the forest If the doe had heard anything, it was one of the distant noises of the world
There are in the woods occasional e, which are inaudible to the dull ears of men, but which, I have no doubt, the forest-folk hear and understand If the doe's suspicions were excited for an instant, they were gone as soon With an affectionate glance at her fawn, she continued picking up her breakfast
But suddenly she started, head erect, eyes dilated, a tremor in her limbs She took a step; she turned her head to the south; she listened intently There was a sound,--a distant, prolonged note, bell-toned, pervading the woods, shaking the air in smooth vibrations It was repeated The doe had no doubt now She shook like the sensitiveof a hound! It was far off,--at the foot of the h to put miles between her and the hound, before he should coh the dense forest, and hide in the recesses of Panther Gorge; yes, tih But there was the fawn The cry of the hound was repeated, more distinct this time
The mother instinctively bounded away a few paces The fawn started up with an anxious bleat: the doe turned; she came back; she couldn't leave it She bent over it, and licked it, and seeo” She walked away towards the west, and the little thing skipped after her It was slow going for the slender legs, over the fallen logs, and through the rasping bushes The doe bounded in advance, and waited: the fawn scray yet on its legs, and whining a good deal because itsaway from it The fawn evidently did not hear the hound: the little innocent would even have looked sweetly at the dog, and tried toupon hi one on; but it was sloork Shea few rods Whenever the fawn caught up, he was quite content to frisk about He wanted ; and his mother wouldn't stand still She led in the roots of the narrow deer-path
Shortly came a sound that threw the doe into a panic of terror,--a short, sharp yelp, followed by a prolonged howl, caught up and reechoed by other bayings along the mountain-side The doe knehat that ht her trail, and the whole pack responded to the ”view-halloo” The danger was certain now; it was near She could not crawl on in this way: the dogs would soon be upon the after her, tu, eht with the faas impossible The doe returned and stood by it, head erect, and nostrils distended She stood perfectly still, but tree of the situation, and began to draw his luncheon ration The doe seemed to havetaken all he wanted, lay down contentedly, and the doe licked him for a moment Then, with the swiftness of a bird, she dashed away, and in a moment was lost in the forest She went in the direction of the hounds
According to all hu into the jaws of death So she was: all hu the baying every moment more distinctly She descended the slope of the mountain until she reached thehere, and the cry of the pack echoeddue east, when (judging by the sound, the hounds were not far off, though they were still hidden by a ridge) she turned short away to the north, and kept on at a good pace In five minutes more she heard the sharp, exultant yelp of discovery, and then the deep-mouthed howl of pursuit The hounds had struck her trail where she turned, and the faas safe
The doe was in good running condition, the ground was not bad, and she felt the exhilaration of the chase For the moment, fear left her, and she bounded on with the exaltation of triu pace, clearing theover the fallen logs, pausing neither for brook nor ravine The baying of the hounds grew fainter behind her But she struck a bad piece of going, a dead-wood slash It wasits intricacies, and not breaking her slender legs No other living anian to pant fearfully; she lost ground The baying of the hounds was nearer She cliait; but, once on round, her breath cae, and maybe a sort of conteh speed perhaps half a mile farther, it occurred to her that it would be safe now to turn to the west, and, by a wide circuit, seek her fawn But, at the moment, she heard a sound that chilled her heart It was the cry of a hound to the west of her The crafty brute had made the circuit of the slash, and cut off her retreat
There was nothing to do but to keep on; and on she went, still to the north, with the noise of the pack behind her In fiveCows and young steers were grazing there She heard a tinkle of bells Below her, down the s, broken by patches of woods Fences intervened; and aAu Sable, and the peaceful farmhouses That way also her hereditary enemies were Not a merciful heart in all that lovely valley She hesitated: it was only for an instant She ain the mountain opposite She bounded on; she stopped What was that? Fro hound All the devils were loose this ht down thethem was a slender white wooden spire The doe did not know that it was the spire of a Christian chapel But perhaps she thought that human pity dwelt there, and would be more merciful than the teeth of the hounds
”The hounds are baying on my track: O white htened anier ofso
Perhaps the trait is the survival of an era of peace on earth; perhaps it is a prophecy of the golden age of the future The business of this age is hter of fellow-men, by the wholesale Hilarious poets who have never fired a gun write hunting-songs,--Ti-ra-la: and good bishops write war-songs,--Ave the Czar!
The hunted doe went down the ”open,” clearing the fences splendidly, flying along the stony path It was a beautiful sight But consider what a shot it was! If the deer, now, could only have been caught I No doubt there were tenderhearted people in the valley ould have spared her life, shut her up in a stable, and petted her Was there one ould have let her go back to her waiting-fawn? It is the business of civilization to tame or kill