tes she thought that she was out of
danger, and that the friendly Glimmerglass had saved her; but presently
she heard a sound of oars, and turning half-way round she lifted her
head and shoulders out of the water, and saw a row-boat and three men
bearing down upon her. A look of horror came into her face as she sank
back, and her heart almost broke with despair; but she was game, and she
struck out with all her might. Her legs tore the water frantically, the
straining muscles stood out like ropes on her sides and flanks and
shoulders, and she almost threw herself from the water. But it was no
use, the row-boat was gaining.

The farmers fired at her again and again, but they were too wildly
excited to hit anything until finally the trapper pulled up alongside
her and threw a noose over her head. And then, while she lay on her side
in the water, with the rope around her neck, kicking and struggling in
a blind agony of despair, one of the farmers shot her dead at a range of
something less than ten feet. When he went home he bragged that he was
the only one of the party who had killed a deer, but he never told just
how the thing was done.

That is the kind of fate that you are very likely to meet if you are a
deer. But vengeance came on the morrow, for that day it was the Buck's
turn to be chased by that horrible fog-horn on four legs. Hour after
hour he heard the hound's dreadful baying behind him as he raced through
the woods, and at last he, too, started for the water, just as the doe
had done. But he never reached it, or at least not on that trip. He was
within a few rods of the beach when his spread hoof caught on a root and
threw him, and the hound was so close behind that they both went down in
a heap. They sprang to their feet at the same instant, and stood for a
second glaring at each other. The dog had not meant to fight, only to
drive the other into the water, where the hunters would take care of
him; but he was game, and he made a spring at the deer's throat. The
Buck drew back his forefoot, with its sharp, pointed hoof, and met the
enemy with a thrust like that of a Roman soldier's short-sword; and the
hound went down with his shoulder broken and a great gash in his side.
And then, with a sudden twist and turn of his head, the Buck caught him
on the point of that terrible spike antler, ripped his body open, and
tossed him in the air.

The worst enemy was disposed of. But that wasn't all. The man who killed
t