Springfield globe-republic. (Springfield, Ohio) 1884-1887, 1886-12-06

day. a handsome Winchester rifle, which
he had ordered made for me. From that
day ceased To struggle against fate.
Brvant's Lines to a Water Fowl al
ways brought TO my imagination other
thoughts than those commonly suggested
to feminine readers; and not only in
thought but in rubber boots and with
game bag have hunted that classic bird
on lake shore and river bottom. At one
time it was canvas back, slowly veer-
ing to the south, with neck outstretched
and eve Of faith; at another, ii was n
stately mallard or jaunty teal, spoonbill
or sprigtail. But l painted for nobler
game.
| longed for the excitement of the chase
TO be where
The stag at eve had drunk his I'LL;
to see and he the beltcd hunter. When I
should have been devising patterns for
sofa cushions and learning to paint on
silk and china my heart was away on the
boundiess plains, chasing deer and ante
lope. As CGdmOn was haunted by a
vision. in which he was told TO sing; as
Socrates was pusued by demon who in
sisted that he should make muSic-so, by
some strange law of psychology, felt
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 Il few weeks at their
home in the Sierras. They had little
house among the pines, in one of the most
romantic regions of the range. A hunt
ing party was formed for my especial en-
tertainment, and the night before, as
prelude to the morrow's excitement, we
listened around the fire to tn, wild stories
Ofthe mOuntaineers.
"Old Clubfoot, ," a grizzly who had been
known in the region for fifteen or twenty
years, was favOrite topic. No one had
had the hariihood to attack him since he
had pursued hunter n long distance and
killed him with stroke of his gigantic
paw An enormous trap had once been
set for him, and he had caught his foot in
it. but. with wonderful intelligence, be
had gone To the nearest rock and beaten
il of He was seen occasionally in the
passing years, and now and then he
helped himself to a sheep or calf I'M
molested.
There was also a white doe among the
neiChboriug mountains which seemed 10
bear a charmed life, for many hunters had
shot at il, but always missed. A super
st.tiou had naturally grown up about it,
and the mountaineerS 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, but 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
his care / was assigned. He had always
wished to see woman shoot, he said, and
| should have a grand chance to show
what could do.
Don't kill the white deer" some one
called after us.
No, no." laughed back; "we'n take
the greatest care.
We rode in silence till we reached the
crown of little hill where there was an
open, grassy spot. | was close beside
Uncle John, when / saw him gaze fiXedly
ahead for q moment. Then, without
turning his head, he said, in a whisper:
Get down quick! Here's your chance!
As fine shot as ever | see"
was down before he had fairly begun
to speak, but trembling all over, and my
teeth chartered in a most unaccountable
way.
slip up behind the sugar pine and
blaze away" was the whispered order;
and, hugging my rifle, l obeyed, all the
time with that dreadful shaking. 1t was
buck ague," as | afterward learned, q
nervous affection experienced by young
hunters during their first shot at a deer,
and even old hunters have suffered from
it.
The beautiful creature, a 2-year-old
buck, stood quietly feeding, outlined
against the sky. leveled my rifle, never
noticing that had not raised the ham
mer, and pulled with all my strength. II
did not "go of" At last discovering
the reason. / righted the hammer with a
click The deer raised his lordly head,
snufTed the air, and was gone in a series
of magnificent leaps.
How beautiful / cried, forgetting in
the novelty of the sight my own stupid
ity, of which, however | was not long to
remain unmindfui. The look of contempt
that greeted me as | turned to Uncle
John withered me.
You'll never kill a deerl Never see
such chance since was born; not ten
yards off POOhr' And the irate old
hunter rode off, leaving me to follow or
go back, as | chose. have been morti-
fed several times in my recollection;
have been spelled down" as u child in
school; have missed the target in archery
tournaments and have been snubbed by
a prospective motherin-law; but never do
l remember that my pride was so lacerated
as now. The sunshine suddenly lost its
brightness, the fresh, fragrant stiffness
was no longer a delight, and desperate
thoughts flashed through my brain of
putting an end to my wretched existence.
At last determined that instead of re
turning home to brood over my sorrow. /
would strike on by myself into the woods,
and redeem my reputation by taking
home at night some trophy of my skill.
The soothing sunshine and delicious air
by degrees restored my equanimity, and
hope was high in my bosom. / scanned
all the ravineS closely. and looked wisely
on the gornd for the tracks of beasts
rode long and far, and when the sun was
high threw myself beside little spring
that bubbled from the rocks. and ate my
luncheon, allowing my horse 10 craze
near me. On my right was a small
patch of green heritage, across which the
tall pines cast a somber shadow. There
was not a sound except that Of the horse |
feeding. ! was too high for birds; they
were below in the valleys, though now
and then a vulture sailed majestically |
around some distant peak. The Ioncli- /
ness and silence of the place began to be /
Suddenly there was rustic in the tall |
grass under the pines. Looking upI saw |
the head Ofa deer. | seized my rifle, and, |
levcling it, fired with steady hand A |
ieafening report crashed through the |
and there leaped into the air a |
white deer! l sprang to the place In |
the bloodstained grass lay the noble ami |
NAL, struggling with death
/ felt a thrill of superstitious horror