, 1886-12-17
1 was born with the instincts of n true

EoI ~ lblB ililt L wa ~ IL iDSS hhoN
from what source had come my passion
for guns and cunning. My father WAS
anything but IL connoisseur of deadly
weapons, and my mother never knew tho
butt from the mu.zle of Il gun, and was
equally afraid of each. After careful
digging at the roots of the family tree, the
scientific basis for hereditary transmits
sion was indicated, for / found that my
grandmother was n cousin of Kit Carson,
the great American hunter and trapper.
While ! was a child, it amused my broth
ers to hear me discuss the merits of choke
bore shot guns and breech loading rifles,
but when | grew to woman's estate this
highly unfeminine taste displeased and
even alarmed them. They were very
proper young men, and did not relish the
idea of a young lady sister who could
take a snipe on the wing, or pierce the
bull's-cyc with n revolver Mt sixty PAGES.
Dear boys, they feared, too, that such IA
propensity might seriously endanger my
being settled in life. They demonstrated,
they scolded; they brought me the &C
counts of nll the dreadful accidents that
resulted from the use of firearms, and
tried to cxtort from me a promise that |
would never touch n gun again. might
have yielded had not an unfortunate cir
cumstance occurred that made me deaf
to all cntrcnties.
An uncle who had heard of my skill, and
WAS queer and old fashioned enough to nd
mire IT, sent me-, IN my eighteenth birth
day. n handsome Winchester rife, which
he had ordered made for me. From that
day | ceased to struggle against fate.
Bryant's Lines to n Water Fowl al
ways brought to my Imagination other
thoughts than those commonly suggested
to feminine readers. and not only in
thought hut in rubber boots and with
game bag have | hunted that classic bird
on like shore and river bOttoiu. NJ one
time it was II canvas back. slowly Neer-
ing to the south. with neck ontstretched
and eye of fuith, at another. it was Il
stately mallard or jaunty teal, n spoonbill
or sprigiail. But | painted for nol'ler
game.
| longed for the exc~aementofthc chase;
to be where
The stag at eve lad drunk his I'LL;
to see. and he the bclted hunter. When |
should have been dcViSing patterns for
sofa cushions and learning to paint on
silk and china my heart was away on the
boundless plains, chasing deer and ante
lope. As Crdmon WAS haunted ny IA
vision, In which he was told to sing as
Socrates was pushed by a~'mon who in
sisted that he should make music-so, by
tillnN HlIlllEt Lln VI lEN 'h''i'rN . wv
that my life would never be complete
until / had hunted the deer or tracked
the grizzly in his mountain home.
The opportunity came. Some friends
invited me to spend II few weeks ut their
home i'll the Sicrras. They had II little
house among the pines. in one of the most
romantic regions of the range. \ hunt
ing party was formed for my especial en-
t~ertainment. and the night before, rs II
prelude To the morrow excitement, we
listened around the fire to the wild stories
of the mountainecrs
"Old Clubfoot. IA grizzly who had been
known in the region for fifteen or twenty
years, was II i%avorite topic. No one lnd
had the hardihood to attack hin since he
had pursued u hunter a long distance and
killed him with II stroke of his gigantic
paw. An enormous trap had once been
set for him. and he had caught his foot in
1t, but, with wonderful intelligence, he
had gone To the nearest rock and beaten
1t of, lie was seen occasionally in the
passing years, and now and then he
helped himself to II sheep or calf UNI
molcsted.
Their was also n white doe among the
n%cighboring mountains which seemed to
bear II charmed life, for many hunters had
shot ut it, but always missed. a super
st.ition had naturally grown up about it,
and the mountainecrs held that some
great calamity would attend the person
who killed the white deer.
These stories aroused my imagination
So that | could scarcely wait for the dawn
of day, and | lay awake long after the
house was still, hut was the first one stir
ring in the morning.
An old hunter, whom we called Uncle
John. was the leader of the party, and to
III. ..r. 1 xr.u ugsfnp.1 IIn hun nlWuys
wished 10 see II woman shoot, he said. and
] should have n grand chance to show
what / could do.
Don't kill the white deerl'' some one
called after lis.
NO. no." laughed back; "wcn take
the greatest care.
We rode in silence till we reached the
crown of IL little hill where there was mn
open, grassy spot. | was close beside
Uncle John, when | saw him gaze fixedly
ahead for II moment Then, without
turning his head, he said, in n whisper;
"t;ct down quick Here's your chance!
As fine Il shot as ever | see
WAS down before he had fairly begun
to speak, but trembling all over, and my
teeth chartered in u most un%accountable
way.
slip up behind the sugar pine and
blnze away" was the whispered order,
and, hugging my rifle, | obeyed, all the
time with that dreadful shaking. 1t was
chuck ague, - MS | afterward learned, II
nervous affection experienced by young
hunters during their first shot Mt n deer,
and even old hunters Ia suffered from
1t.
The beautiful creature, n 2-year-old
buck, stood quietly feeding, outlined
against the sky. | leveled my rifle, never
untiefuv TINT | Ind NOT rniSel the hmm
mer, and pulled with all my strength. 1t
did not ''go or At last discovering
the reason, | righted the hammer with II
click. The deer raised his lordly head,
snuffed the air, and was gone in IL series
OF magnificent leaps.
How beautiful | cried, forgetting In
the novelty Of the sight my stupid
ity. of which, however, / was not long to
remain unmindful. The look of contempt
that greeted me as | turned to Uncle
John Withered me.
"You'll never kill a deer! Never see
such II chance since | wa born; not ten
yards or. poohl' And the irate old
hunter rode OH, leaving me To follow or
20 back. ns | chose. | have been morti-
He'd several times in my recollection;
have been 'ipelled down as "A child in
school; have missed the target in archery
tournaments, and have been snubbed by
II prospective mother-in-la law; hut never do
! remember that my pride was so lacerated
ns now. The sunshine suddenly lost Its
brightness. the fresh, fragrant stiffness
was NO longer n delight, and desperate
thoughts flashed through my brain of
putting an end to my wretched existence.
Al last ! determined that instead OF re-
burning home To brood over my sorrow. 1