ough so that they would come through to where Comstock and I
were watching, he decided to take the trail of the broken legged doe,
and as good luck, the deer did come through to Mr. Comstock, and as
he had an Osgood gun with four shots, he succeeded in killing a very
large buck. After firing the four shots, the fun began.

Mr. Comstock was determined to take the buck to camp, as he wanted to
take the deer home whole. We had a very steep point to climb for a
distance of five hundred yards to reach the top of the ridge. The
deer weighed about two hundred pounds. Any hunter will tell you what
an awkward job it is to carry a deer of that weight lashed to a pole.
Mr. Comstock would not consent to drawing the deer for fear it would
rake the hair off. Well, we could not carry it up the steep point on
the pole, as the swaying of the deer would throw us off our feet. Mr.
Comstock said that he would carry it alone if I would help him get it
on his shoulder. Mr. Comstock was a large man, weighing over two
hundred pounds, but nevertheless I did not think he would be able to
carry the deer and told him so. After some hard tugging we got the
deer on his shoulder and he started up the hill. I started to get out
of the way, and I was none too soon in doing so. Mr. Comstock had not
taken a half dozen steps when back he came, deer and all, like ten
thousand bricks. But as he did not break any limbs or his neck, he
was bound to try it again, which he did with the same result. But
this time he was quite badly bruised, and he was now satisfied to
leave the deer until morning, when Bill went with us and we made a
sort of a litter and carried it to camp whole; and he was a proud and
happy man. When Mr. Comstock and I left the deer and decided to await
reinforcements, we struck the trail of Bill, drawing a deer in the
direction of camp, so we now knew why Bill had not followed the trail
of the deer through to where Comstock and I were watching.

It was now about the closing time for deer hunting, so after Mr.
Comstock had left for home, Bill and I put in the time until the
first of March tending the small traps with the usual success of the
average trapper, getting a fox, or mink or marten or some piece of
fur nearly every day.

When the team which we had written home for came and got our camp
outfit and our furs, we broke camp and went home to await another
trapping season.

CHAPTER XV.

Trapping and Bee Hunting.

Comrades of the