nning shot, or else rush straightaway at the sudden alarm
and be caught on the bluff beyond.

Was it simple instinct, I wonder, or did the buck that had grown old in
hunter's wiles feel what was passing in my mind, and like a flash take
the chance that would save, not only his own life, but the lives of
the two that followed him? At the first alarm they separated; the two
smaller deer broke away down the hillside, giving me as pretty a shot
as one could wish. But I scarcely noticed them; my eyes were following
eagerly a swift waving of brush tops, which told me that the big buck
was jumping away, straight into the natural trap ahead.

I followed on the run till the ridge narrowed so that I could see across
it on either side, then slowly, carefully, steadying my nerves for
the shot. The river was all about him now, too wide to jump, too
steep-banked to climb down; the only way out was past me. I gripped the
rifle hard, holding it at a ready as I moved forward, watching either
side for a slinking form among the scattered coverts. At last, at last!
and how easy, how perfectly I had trapped him! My heart was singing as I
stole along.

The tracks moved straight on; first an easy run, then a swift, hard rush
as they approached the river. But what was this? The whole end of the
bluff was under my eye, and no buck standing at bay or running wildly
along the bank to escape. The tracks moved straight on to the edge in
great leaps; my heart quickened its beat as if I were nerving myself for
a supreme effort. Would he do it? would he dare?

A foot this side the brink the lichens were torn away where the sharp
hoofs had cut down to solid earth. Thirty feet away, well over the
farther bank and ten feet below the level where I stood, the fresh earth
showed clearly among the hoof-torn moss. Far below, the river fretted
and roared in a white rush of rapids. He had taken the jump, a jump that
made one's nostrils spread and his breath come hard as he measured
it with his eye. Somewhere, over in the spruces' shadow there, he was
hiding, watching me no doubt to see if I would dare follow.

That was the last of the autumn woods for me. If I had only seen
him--just one splendid glimpse as he shot over and poised in mid-air,
turning for the down plunge! That was my only regret as I turned slowly
away, the river singing beside me and the shadows lengthening along the
home trail.

WINTER TRAILS

The snow had come, and with it a Chr