he doe was waiting on the beach and had heard the scuffle, and now he
came creeping quietly through the bushes to see what was going on. The
Buck was still trampling the body of the dog, and noticed nothing till a
rifle bullet grazed his right flank, inflicting just enough of a wound
to make him still more furious. He faced around and stood for a moment
staring at this new enemy; and then he did something which very few wild
deer have ever done. Probably he would not have done it himself if he
had not been half crazy with rage and excitement, and much emboldened by
his easy victory over the hound. He put his head down and his antlers
forward, and charged on a man!

The farmer was jerking frantically at the lever of his repeating rifle,
but a cartridge had stuck in the magazine, and he couldn't make it work.
The hound's fate had shown him what that spike antler could do; and
when he saw it bearing down on him at full tilt he dropped his gun and
ran for his life to his dug-out canoe. He reached it just in time. I
almost wish he hadn't.

One more adventure the Buck had that fall. Providence, or Fate, or
someone took a hand in affairs, and rid the Glimmerglass of all hunters,
not for that season alone, but for many years to come. One night, down
beside a spring in the cedar swamp, the Buck found a half-decayed log on
which a bag of salt had been emptied. He stayed there for an hour or
two, alternately licking the salt and drinking the cold water, and it
was as good as an ice-cream soda. The next night he returned for another
debauch; but in the meantime two other visitors had been there, and both
had seen his tracks and knew that he would come again. As he neared the
spring, treading noiselessly on the soft moss, he heard two little
clicks, and stopped short to see what they meant. Both were quick and
sharp, and both had come at exactly the same instant; yet they were not
quite alike, for one had come from the shutter of a camera, and one from
the lock of a rifle. Across the salt-lick a photographer and a hunter
were facing each other in the darkness, and each saw the gleam of the
other's eyes and took him for a deer. So close together were the two
clicks that neither man heard the sound of the other's weapon, and both
were ready to fire--each in his own way.

The Buck stood and watched, and suddenly there came two bursts of
flame--one of them so big and bright that it lit the woods like
sheet-lightning. Two triggers had