The Portland daily press., 1878-04-06
From the April Atlantic]
A-Hunting Of the Deer.

a 4uhtAA6 VI tAO OOO1s
BY CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER.
If civilization owes a debt of gratitude to
the selfsacrifcing sportsmen who have
cleared the Adirondack region of catamounts
and savage trout, what shall be said of the
army which has so nobly relieved them of
the terror of the deer? The deer slayers
have somewhat celebrated their exploits in
print, but think that justice has never been
done them.
The American deer in the wilderness, left
to himself, leads a comparatively harmless
bat rather stupid life, with only such excite
ment as his own timid fancy raises. 1t was
very seldom that one of his tribe was eaten
by the North American tiger. For wild
animal he is very domestic; simple in his
tastes, regular in his habits, affectionate In
his family. Unfortunately for his repose his
haunch is as tender as his heart. OF all
wild creatures he is one of the most graceful
In action, and he poses with the skill of an
experienced model. l have seen the goats on
Mt Pentelicus scatter at the approach of
stranger, climb to the sharp points of pro-
jectiug rocks, and attitudinize in the most
selfconscious manner, striking al once those
picturesque pictures against the sky with
which Oriental pictures have made us and
them familiar. But the whole proceeding
was theatrical. Greece is the home of art,
and it is rare to find anything there natural
and unstuded. presume that these goats
have no nonsense about them when they are
alone with the goat-herds, any more than the
goat herds have, except when they come to
pose in the studio; but the long ages of Gull
ture, the presence always to the eye of the
best models and the forms of immortal beauty,
1a In friozoe IF 10 Tovorla of Thasonc
the marble professions OF sacrificial animals,
have had steady moldiDg, educating infu
epce equal to a society OF decorative art upon
the people and the animals who have dwet
in this artistic atmosphere. The Attic goat
has become an artifcially artistic being,
though of course he is not now what he was,
as poser, in the days of Polycetus. There
is opportunity for very instructive essay by
Mr.. e. A. Freeman on the decadence of the
Attic goat under the influence of the Otto
man Turk. The American deer in the free
atmosphere of our country, and as yet I'M
touched by our decorative art, is without self
consciousness, and all his attitudes are free
and unstudied. The favorite position of the
deer-his foreleet in the shallow margin of
the lake among the lily pads, his antlers
thrown back and his nose in the air at the
moment he hears the stealthy breaking of
twig in the forests still spirited and grace
full, and wholly unaffected by the pictures of
him which the artists have put upon can
vass.
Outlining the various ways in which deer
are hunted the story contiuues:-)
The pleasurable excitement OF deer hunt
has never, believe, been regarded from the
deer's point of view. I happened to be 10
position. by reason of lucky Adirondack ex.
perience, to present it in that light.
Early in the morning Of the 23d of August,
1877, doe was feeding on Basin mountain.
The night had been warm and showery, and
the morning opened in an undecided way.
The wind was southerly; it is what the deer
call dog wind, having come to know quite
well the meaning of "a southerly wind and
cloudy sky" The sole companion of the doe
was her only child, a charming little fawn.
whose brown coat was just beginning to be
mottled with the beautiful spots which make
this young creature as lovely as the gazelle.
The buck, its father, had been that night on
long tramp across the mountain to Clear
Pond, and had not yet returned; he went
ostensibly to feed on the succulent lily-pads,
there. "He feedeth among the lilies until
the day break and the shadows fee away,
and he should be here by this hour; but he
cometh not" she said, leaping upon the
mountains, skipping upon the hills. Clear
Pond was too far off for the young mother to
go with her fawn for nights pleasure. 1t
was fashionable watering place at this sea-
son among the deer; and the doe may have
remembered, not without uneasiness, the
moonlight meetings of frivolous society
there. But the buck did not come; he was
very likely sleeping under one of the lodges
on Tight Nippin. Was he aloneP 'Icharge
you, by the roes and by the binds of the
field, that ye stir not nor awake my love, till
he please"
The doe was feeding, dainty cropping the
tender leaves of the young shoots and turn
ing from time to time to regard her offspring.
The fawn had taken his morning meal and
now lay curled up on a bed of moss, watching
contentedly, with his large, soft brown eyes,
every movement of his mother. The great
eyes followed her with an alert entreaty, and
if the mother stepped pace or two further
away in feeding the fawn made half move
she was his sole dependence in all the world.
But he was quickly treasured when she
turned her gaze on him; and if, in alarm, he
uttered plaintive cry, she bounded to him
at once, and, with every demonstration of
affection, licked his notified skin till it shone
again.
1t was a pretty picture maternal love on
the one part, and happy trust on the other.
The doe was beauty, and would have been
so considered anywhere; as graceful and
winning creature as the sun that day shone
on. Slender limbs, not too heavy TANKS,
round body, and aristocratic head, with small
ears and luminous, intelligent, affectionate
eyes. How alert, upple, free she was What
untaught grace in every movement! What
charming pose, when she lifted her head
and turned it to regard her child You would
have had companion picture if you had seen
as saw, that morning, baby kicking about
among the dry pine needles on ledge above
the Asuable, in the valley below, while its
young mother sat near, with an easel before
her, touching in the color of a reluctant land
scape, giving quick look at the sky and the
outline of the Twin Mountains, and, bestow-
Art In its infancy.
The doe lifted her head little, with a
quick motion, and turned her ear to the
south. Had she heard something? Proba-
bly, it was only the south wind in the bal
sans. There was silence all about in the
forest. If the doe had heard anything, it
was one Of the distant noises Of the world.
There are in the woods occasional meanings,
premonitons of change, which are inaudible
to the dull ears of men, but which have no
doubt the forest folk hear and understand.
If the does suspicious were excited for an
instant, they were gone as soon. With an
affectionate glance at her fawn, she continued
picking up her breakfast.
But suddenly she started; head erect, eyes
dllated, tremor in her limbs. She took
step. she turned her head to the south; she
listened intently. There was sound-a dis
tant, prolonged note. bell-toned, pervading
the air, shaking the air in smooth vibrations.
1t was repeated. The doe had no doubt
now. She shook like the sensitive mimosa
when a footstep approaches. 1t was the
baying of a hound! 1t was far off, at the
foot OF the mountain. Time enough to fly.
Time enough to put miles between her and
the hound before he should come upon her
fresh trail. Time enough to escape away
through the dense forest and hide in the re-
cesses OF Panther Gorge. Yes, time enough;
but there was the fawn! The cry of the
hound was repeated, more distinct this time.
The mother instinctively bounded away a
few PAGES; the fawn started up with an anx-
ious bleat; the doe turned; she came back;
she couldn't leave it. She bent over it and
licked ii, and seemed to say, Come my child,
we are pursued; we must 60. She walked
away towards the west, and the little thing
skipped after her. 1t was slow-going for the
slender legs, over the fallen logs and through
the rasping bushes. The doe bounded in ad-
vance, and waited; the fawn scrambled after
her, slipping and tumbling along, very groggy
yet on its legs, and whining good deal be-
-