The National tribune., 1903-07-30

| eted by the ears, apparently as big as two
great barn doors, that tapped slowly back
ward and forward as the noble fellow
gazed at me with solemn. and thought,
pathetic, eyes. l had never before seen a
deer in his native state, and l lay para
| lyzed for moment. There seemed to be
| such nobility, such grace, such majesty
in the pose, that l forgot that 1 h1d come
out to slay. moment later. and the bru-
| tat instinct returned, and i was fired with
zeal to capture this king OF the mountain
| side. My rifle had become cntangled
among my blankets. Should / leap sud
denly up, grasp my rifle and charge? I
could not make up my mind to do this.
| Then | reasoned that the stag was on his
way down the trail to the lick. This
would lead him around the big boulder.
when | could arrest his progress as he
/ emerged from the shadow The stag took
a leisurely survey, and satisfied himself
that l was not an Internal machine nor a
dynamite bomb, so he backed siewly out of
sight The moment that he disappeared,
l secured my rifle and awaited his advent
| in the trail below me.
Now that the hunter instinct has fallen
into innocuous desuetude with me and
less sanguinary notions pervade my being,
l am happy to say that | am still waiting.
1t may be that the preparations for his
execution came to his acute ears: at any
rate, he took the wiser course and curbed
his appetite for Il saline Diet. l never saw
him again. l stayed in the glen until Sat-
urday noon. and then started for the sta
tion in 4 wagon that had come down to
the hotel. With me on the wagon was
| the carcass of Il fine buck | had shot thav
morning. The driver of the wagon and I
had a lively conversation on the way,
which may explain the fact that just be-
| fore we got to the station I happened to
/ 11aI IL ~
| dropped on the way up the steep noun
tain side. We turned around and drove
back and found the prize lying in the mid
die Of the road not thousand yards from
| the hotel
This leads me naturally into the mat
| ter of preparation for entrance into the
city of San Francisco. California has a
reputation for uniformity Of climate. This
| has led to some grave errors. In regard
/ to clothing. it is a safe rule to wear fan
mel underclOthing the year round in our
city. There are hundreds of our city
people who do not own an overcoat, and
yet again hundreds who wear a light one
the entire year.
In September the nights are almost in
variably quite cold. making fire a COM
| fort if not a necessity. Rain seldom il
ever falls before October or November,
but fogs often creep through our valleys.
| lowering the temperature materially. Let
me here interject the statement that our
California women have exceptionally fine
compilations, and Our wise ones say that
this is due to the good influence Of the
| fOgS that sweep in from the Pacific, laden
with chemical solutions that give life and
health to the skin. / am writing this in
| the open space in front of my tent, the
warm July sun sitting down flaky rays
from the tall trees that stand around about
me. The fir and the bay trees lend sweet
ness to the lazy atmosphere; hills rise
grandly upward from my feet, bearing
their burden of bush and vine and tree.
1 hear down in the hollow the merry laugh
| ter of children returning from Il bath in
the pool; all show signs of Midsummer
warmth. and yet as the sun sinks below
yon distant hill, 1 shall be looking for my
| light overcuat. nor will 1 shrink from the
CHEEKY glow Of the bonfire the youngsters
nightly build in the hollow, while they
dance like little fairies and wood nymphs
in the light of the full round moon.