r

"Why are there so few deer tracks now?"

"Deer yarded for winter," replied the Indian; "no travel in deep snow."

"We'll soon need another," said Rolf, which unfortunately was true. They
could have killed many deer in early winter, when the venison was in
fine condition, but they had no place to store it. Now they must get it
as they could, and of course it was thinner and poorer every week.

They were on a high hill some days later. There was a clear view and
they noticed several ravens circling and swooping.

"Maybe dead deer; maybe deer yard," said the Indian.

It was over a thick, sheltered, and extensive cedar swamp near the woods
where last year they had seen so many deer, and they were not surprised
to find deer tracks in numbers, as soon as they got into its dense
thicket.

A deer yard is commonly supposed to be a place in which the deer have a
daily "bee" at road work all winter long and deliberately keep the snow
hammered down so they can run on a hard surface everywhere within its
limits. The fact is, the deer gather in a place where there is plenty
of food and good shelter. The snow does not drift here, so the deer,
by continually moving about, soon make a network of tracks in all
directions, extending them as they must to seek more food. They may,
of course, leave the yard at any time, but at once they encounter the
dreaded obstacle of deep, soft snow in which they are helpless.

Once they reached the well-worn trails, the hunters took off their
snowshoes and went gently on these deer paths. They saw one or two
disappearing forms, which taught them the thick cover was hiding many
more. They made for the sound of the ravens, and found that the feast of
the sable birds was not a deer but the bodies of three, quite recently
killed.

Quonab made a hasty study of the signs and said, "Panther."

Yes, a panther, cougar, or mountain lion also had found the deer yard;
and here he was living, like a rat in a grocer shop with nothing to do
but help himself whenever he felt like feasting.

Pleasant for the panther, but hard on the deer; for the killer is
wasteful and will often kill for the joy of murder.

Not a quarter of the carcasses lying here did he eat; he was feeding at
least a score of ravens, and maybe foxes, martens, and lynxes as well.

Before killing a deer, Quonab thought it well to take a quiet prowl
around in hopes of seeing the panther. Skookum was turned loose and
encouraged to displa