ving the completion of his permanent camp
to the morrow.

Chapter XVII

In the morning he thatched smooth the roof of the shelter, using for
the purpose the thick branches of hemlocks; placed two green spruce logs
side by side as cooking range; slung his pot on a rod across two forked
sticks; cut and split a quantity of wood; spread his blankets; and
called himself established. His beard was already well grown, and his
clothes had become worn by the brush and faded by the sun and rain.
In the course of the morning he lay in wait very patiently near a spot
overflowed by the river, where, the day before, he had noticed lily-pads
growing. After a time a doe and a spotted fawn came and stood ankle-deep
in the water, and ate of the lily-pads. Thorpe lurked motionless behind
his screen of leaves; and as he had taken the precaution so to station
himself that his hiding-place lay downwind, the beautiful animals were
unaware of his presence.

By and by a prong-buck joined them. He was a two-year-old, young,
tender, with the velvet just off his antlers. Thorpe aimed at his
shoulder, six inches above the belly-line, and pressed the trigger. As
though by enchantment the three woods creatures disappeared. But the
hunter had noticed that, whereas the doe and fawn flourished bravely the
broad white flags of their tails, the buck had seemed but a streak of
brown. By this he knew he had hit.

Sure enough, after two hundred yards of following the prints of sharp
hoofs and occasional gobbets of blood on the leaves, he came upon his
prey dead. It became necessary to transport the animal to camp. Thorpe
stuck his hunting knife deep into the front of the deer's chest, where
the neck joins, which allowed most of the blood to drain away. Then he
fastened wild grape vines about the antlers, and, with a little exertion
drew the body after him as though it had been a toboggan.

It slid more easily than one would imagine, along the grain; but not as
easily as by some other methods with which Thorpe was unfamiliar.

At camp he skinned the deer, cut most of the meat into thin strips which
he salted and placed in the sun to dry, and hung the remainder in a cool
arbor of boughs. The hide he suspended over a pole.

All these things he did hastily, as though he might be in a hurry; as
indeed he was.

At noon he cooked himself a venison steak and some tea. Then with his
hatchet he cut several small pine poles, which he fashioned roughly in