Chapter 1

Introduction

 

  STILL-HUNTING, the most scientific of all things pertaining to hunting, has hitherto been almost confined to the backwoodsman or frontiersman, and has been little enjoyed by those born and reared at any distance from facilities for learning practically the ways of the wild woods and plains. Thousands of our best shots with the shot-gun are men born and bred in the city. But of the thousands who enjoy the still-hunt the majority are backwoodsmen. One great reason of this is that the art is one requiring for proficiency more life in the forest than the average city man can spend there. But another great reason has been the almost utter lack of any information or instruction upon the subject. For this, the greatest and most important branch of the whole art of hunting has, I may safely say, been totally neglected by the great body of writers upon field-sports. Most attempts in that line have been like " The Deer-Stalkers" of Frank Forrester a short fancy sketch, not intended to convey any instruction. And where the subject has been touched upon at all in works on hunting, the information given has been so extremely general in its nature and form of expression, and so utterly lacking in qualifications and exceptions quite as essential as the rules themselves, that to a beginner in the woods it is of little more use than the maps in a child's atlas are to a tourist Consequently he who would single-handed and alone outgeneral the bounding beauties of the forest and plain, and with a single ball trip their wily feet, is nearly always compelled to work out his own knowledge of how to do it. And this he must generally do, as I had to do it, by a long series of mortifying failures.

  I have spent too many days alone in the depths of the forest primeval and on the mountain's shaggy breast not to know full well that printed precepts are poor substitutes for Nature's wild school of object-teaching. Yet from that same life I have learned another thing quite as true; namely, that while instruction cannot carry one bodily to the desired goal, it can nevertheless clear the road of hundreds of stumps and fallen logs, cut away a vast amount of tangled brush, and bridge many a Serbonian bog.

  Not without hesitation have I undertaken to explore this "dark continent" of the world of field-sports. At this day a writer upon almost any other subject has the roads, paths, blaze-marks, and charts of a dozen or more explorers before him. I have nothing to follow; the only work upon deer, that of Judge Caton, thorough and fine as it is, deals only with the anatomy, physiology, and natural history of deer; all those habits which it is essential for the still-hunter to thoroughly understand being as much beyond the scope of his work as the part he has treated of is beyond the scope of this work. The same is the case with the part upon rifles and shooting; nearly everything in print on the subject pertaining only to target-rifles and target-shooting. Besides this dearth of pioneers to clear the road, the habits of large game generally, and of deer especially, vary so much with climate, elevation, and character of country, quality, distribution, and quantity of food, amount and nature of the disturbance to which the game may be subjected, and other causes, that there can be no man who thoroughly understands still-hunting in every part of the United States. Moreover, the deer is so irregular in some of its movements, so difficult to observe closely, and so quick to change many of its habits after a little persecution or change in methods of hunting, that it is not probable that any one person thoroughly understands the animal even in any one State. And I have heard the very best and oldest hunters of my acquaintance say that they were continually learning something new about deer. But there is still enough that is both universal and certain to carry the learner over far the greater part of the difficulties and save him many an aching limb and sinking heart.

  To impart this is, however, no easy task for any one. Unfortunately those who best know in practice the rules of hunting are almost necessarily deficient in power to lay out and finish in the details a treatise on a subject so extensive and recondite. The "old hunter" to whom the learner must now resort for his advice knows practically a great deal; but between what he knows and what he can or will tell there is a difference as wide as it is provoking. Even if he were never so well disposed to impart his knowledge, it would require at least fifty long and elaborate lectures of several hours each for him to do so in his language. Moreover, the average "old hunter" or Leatherstocking is full of wrong theories, which he either does not follow in the field or, if he does, he succeeds in spite of them by virtue of his other qualifications. The stock of nonsensical theories held by the old-time country " old hunter" with the old single shot-gun is nothing to the mass of absurdities that a very successful old Leatherstocking can dispense on the subject of deer-hunting, rifles, and rifle-shooting. So that unless constantly by his side in the field a thing to which any good hunter will seriously object the beginner can learn little from him. I have had to work out almost every particle of my information from a mine of stubborn ore. And I flatter myself that I can save to those who will take the pains to study not merely read this work, at least two thirds of the labor, vexation, and disappointment through which I was compelled to flounder; though I started in with keen eyes, tireless feet, unflagging hope, and years of experience in all branches of hunting with the shot-gun, beginning even in childhood.

 

   To be exhaustive without being exhausting is one of the most delicate tasks ever set a didactic writer. To avoid being tedious I have intentionally omitted -

    1st. All that part of the natural history and habits of our game which does not bear directly upon the question of how to find and shoot it; such as its birth, nurture, growth, and shedding of horns, all of which may be found in other and better books such as Judge Caton's.

    2nd. A large mass of vague and unreliable theories held about hunting and shooting even by successful hunters. We are never so wise as when we know what it is that we do not know. There are many movements of game that it is impossible to reduce to rule, in which the animal seems governed only by the caprice of the passing moment. As there are doctors who will never admit ignorance upon any point, but will explain to you at once, like the physicians in the plays of Moliere, the efficient causes of the most slippery phenomena, so there are hosts of hunters who have ever on their tongue's end an exact explanation of every movement of a deer. Agreeing with Sir William Hamilton that "contented ignorance is better than presumptuous wisdom," I have omitted all such dubious theories.

    3rd. Everything that can be safely in trusted to the beginner's common-sense; though I have been cautious about presuming too much upon this.

 

   The art of still-hunting deer carries with it nearly the whole art of still-hunting other large American game. As a good and accomplished lawyer has only a few special points of practice to learn in transplanting himself from State to State, so the thorough still-hunter will go from deer to antelope, elk, or other game, already equipped with five sixths of the knowledge necessary to hunt them. And this very knowledge will, as it does in the case of the lawyer, enable him to learn the rest in one fourth of the time in which a beginner could do it. Consequently a large portion of this work applies to antelope also without special reference.

  It is a common idea that shooting game with a rifle does not call for a very high degree of skill with it, or for very much knowledge of the principles of shooting. That considerable game is killed by very ordinary shooting is true. But it is equally true that as much game is lost by bad shooting as by bad hunting. And it is quite as true that bad shooting is as much due to downright, solid ignorance of the rifle, the principles of projectiles, and the use of the rifle in the field as distinguished from its use at the target, as to nervousness, excitement, want of practice, and all other causes put together. The extent of this ignorance, even among very successful hunters, is amazing; their success being due to their good hunting, energy, and perseverance, and in spite of their poor shooting. I therefore deem a treatise on the hunting-rifle: and its use in the field an indispensable part of any work on still-hunting. And since this information cannot be found to any valuable extent in any other work on shooting that I have seen, I have treated the subject quite fully, omitting however, out of regard for the reader's patience, much that can be trusted to his intelligence and much that may be found in works on the rifle and on target-shooting.

  It is to be expected that many hunters, and good ones too, will differ from many of my views. Among even the best and most intelligent sportsmen there is much disagreement on even the simplest points. It is therefore vain for anyone to expect endorsement upon every point from the man who declares that a gun is safest with the hammer resting on the cap; who thinks a slow twist makes a "slow ball," a quick twist a "quick ball," a gain twist a "strong ball;" who sincerely believes that his rifle shoots on a level line for two hundred yards; who talks of putting a ball in the heart of a running deer at three hundred yards as a matter of course, and discourses about knocking a deer down "in his tracks" as he would knock down a cabbage-head with a club. It is also impossible for any writer upon field-sports to avoid occasional mistakes. There are others, doubtless, who would make less than I do. But they do not write. And from the length of time the world has waited for such a book it is fair to presume that they do not intend to write. Therefore take this as the best you can get, and bear lightly on its infirmities.

  Some will think I have been too fond of repetition. But there are principles which cannot otherwise be understood in their practical extent. The great trouble is to make one understand in the concrete what he knows well enough in the abstract. Other principles require repetition in their different applications, requiring contemplation under different points of view. Many will think that I have been too fond of analysis, have drawn distinctions too fine, and have been too lavish with refinements and caution. Undoubtedly deer may be killed in large numbers without heeding one half the advice I give. There are still parts of our country where deer are yet so plenty and tame that anyone who can shoot at all can kill some. Often when concentrated by deep snows, fires, or other causes, and enfeebled by starvation, the wildest of deer or antelope may fall easy victims to any one of brute strength and brute heart. Even when deer are scarce, wild, and in full strength the varies block-head may occasionally stumble over one and kill it with a shot-gun. And in almost any place where the ground or brush does not make too much noise beneath the feet, if there are any deer at all, brute endurance in getting over ground enough, assisted by brute perseverance, will bring success.

  But from all this we can draw only one conclusion; namely, that the greater the success one has by careless or unscientific methods, the better it would be and the more ease and pleasure he would have in it by doing it scientifically. And to put the beginner on the very best track, I have treated, throughout this work, of deer very wild. This is rendered the more necessary by the fact that in nearly all places the deer of to-day is not the deer of thirty years ago; in many places not even the deer of ten years ago.

  Deer become more wary as hunters increase. They change their habits to suit new styles of hunting and fire-arms. And these tendencies have been so transmitted by descent that the average six-months-old fawn of to-day is a far more delicate article to handle than were most of the mighty old bucks on which the Leatherstocking "old hunter" of thirty years ago won his name and fame.

  It is quite common to hear still-hunting denounced as "pot-hunting" by the advocates of driving deer with hounds. That the market-hunter is almost always a still-hunter is unfortunately true. It is also a sad truth that the man who murders woodcock in May for Delmonico's epicures possesses a breech-loader. But this hardly makes the use of the breechloader pot-hunting. I have seen it stated that a still-hunter on snow was certain to secure the deer that he once took the track of. All this savors of sour grapes. No man who ever had any experience in still-hunting ever committed such stuff to paper. But to correct at the outset any misapprehension I will say that, with whatever proficiency in still-hunting any mortal ever reaches, with all the advantages of snow, ground, wind, and sun in his favor, many a deer will, in the very climax of triumphant assurance, slip through his fingers like the thread of a beautiful dream.

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Chapter 2

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  Much has been written about the essential qualities of a good deer-hunter, the only effect of which is to deter from attempting it many a man who might easily enjoy still-hunting, or "deer-stalking" as our English cousins call it. To make a good professional hunter who shall kill a large number of deer in a season, and do it on all kinds of ground and in all kinds of weather, does undoubtedly require such physical and other qualities as are mentioned by Stonehenge, Forrester, and others. But on the other hand any man of sufficient savoir faire, strength, and energy to make a respectable bag of quail or woodcock in any of the Eastern States, whether he be bred in the backwoods or in Fifth Avenue, whether a knight of the trigger or only a carpet-knight, can by study and practice make a fair amateur still-hunter; that is, one who can go where deer or antelope are moderately plenty and kill, not great quantities, but enough for good sport and quite as much as any man has any business to kill.

  We will leave the equipment for hunting for future consideration; and, supposing you already prepared, let us see where we are to find our game.

  To find ground where deer are plenty enough for good sport is still an easy matter even at the present rate of destruction. And there need be no fear that they will soon be too scarce. The days of the market's lofty prerogative are numbered. The American people are fast awaking to the fact that the true question before them is not, Why should not he who kills game have a right to sell it? Why should not he who cannot hunt his own game have a right to buy it ? They are fast awaking to see that a far higher question than either of those imperiously demands an immediate answer. That question is, shall we have game for those who are able to hunt it for themselves, who need the health-giving medicine of the woods far more than epicures need their palates tickled, or shall we have game for none? Shall we have game for our own people forever under close restrictions, or shall our woods become a cheerless blank in order that the present generation of epicures in New York and Boston may wax fat for a few years? And when America awakes from sleep she spends little time in yawning and rubbing her eyes.

  The deer is still found in nearly every State in the Union, though in many is not now plenty enough for still-hunting unless upon snow. In Canada and the northern tier of States in the Great West, in nearly all the Territories, in most of the Southern and Southwestern States, and on the Pacific coast it is still quite abundant in large tracts of country. But it is quite impossible to lay down any reliable rule for finding where deer are abundant, for there is no other kind of game whose movements and habits are so influenced by locality, climate, season, elevation and shape of ground, quality, quantity, and distribution of food, amount and nature of hunting to which they are exposed, as well as by snow, flies, scarcity of water, timber, brush, etc., as are the movements and habits of deer. Besides all this there is sometimes a caprice about their movements that will overturn all calculations even when based upon the most reliable data. Sometimes deer will shift hundreds of miles on the approach of winter, as they do in Northern Wisconsin and that part of Michigan lying north of it. Yet in other places of apparently the same character they move little or not at all. In places their migrations are very regular, in others so irregular as to appear quite accidental, occurring only at intervals of several years, often without apparent cause. In general they are regular. The snow-belts of mountains they are quite apt to forsake in winter for the warmer or barer foot-hills or valleys below, sometimes going many miles away into the lowland ranges, sometimes lingering around the mountains' feet, sometimes returning early in the spring to the high ranges, sometimes remaining in the low ground for the greater part of the summer. Even when in the high mountains their movements will vary. Sometimes they will keep along the highest ridges on which timber or brush is to be found, descending only at night to the little meadows or valleys below to water and feed; while at other times they will be most numerous half-way down the mountain, and are frequently more plenty, even in summer, in the foot-hills than in the high ground. Sometimes they will be found most plenty in thick brush; and again the thick brush will be almost bare of them and they will be found in the gulches and breaks of comparatively open ground. Sometimes they will be most numerous in the depths of the heaviest timber, sometimes on the edge of it where it breaks into scrub oak, hazel and other brush, sometimes in the long grass of the sloughs on the prairie. Often they will be most plenty in the dense undergrowth of river bottoms, and again in the high bluffy lands along them; sometimes in the heaviest swamps and places abounding in lakes or ponds; sometimes in the valleys and low ravines, and again mainly on the ridges and points. By all this I mean that the greater part of the deer will be in such places, and not that they are exclusively on such ground; for in a country abounding in deer generally more or less will be found on nearly all kinds of ground and at every season, except perhaps on the mountain-tops in case of deep snows in winter. The habits of deer in regard to shifting will often vary very much in the same section of country. In some parts of Southern California fully three fourths of the deer on a certain range will leave it for another range. In other parts the same deer will always be found on the same old circle where you have found them for years, and if killed out there will be few or none to be found there for a year or two. While antelope generally have a far more extensive daily or weekly range than deer, they are less apt to shift from section to section for any cause but snow. Some of the bands yet remaining in San Diego County, Cal., stay on their old range through the severest droughts, clinging to their native plain long after horses and cattle have been starved out upon it, refusing to leave it though there be good feed in other sections not far away. But it must not be inferred that the antelope in all sections retains this love for his native heath. Such may be the case, but a few instances do not prove it. And all through the study of still-hunting you cannot be too careful how you draw conclusions from a few instances, and especially about the migratory movements of deer. The plain truth is that there is no trustworthy rule by which to decide in what section deer or antelope are plenty enough to afford good sport. The only reliance is on:

 

   • General reputation of a range.

   • Information from those hunting or living upon it.

   • Personal inspection of the range.

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  When a certain section has the reputation of being a good deer-range, such reputation is not apt to be baseless. But when you reach it you will probably have to decide for yourself whether it will reward you to hunt it. And probably you will have to decide for yourself upon which part the most game is likely to be found; for though few sources of information are more reliable than general reputation of a range few are more unreliable than special information about it. The opinion of persons who are not hunters is bad enough about almost any kind of game, but almost worthless about deer. Some people are always seeing some wonderful thing, while others never see anything beyond their immediate business. One man will declare that "the woods is lined with 'em" because he occasionally sees one or two along the road or near a spring, taking them, of course, every time for different deer, or because he sees a few tracks in his turnip-patch, counting unconsciously a deer to every track, as is usual with most persons not hunters, and with too many that are. Another dogmatically assures you that " deer are mighty scarce" because he does not see some every time he goes smashing through dry leaves and dead sticks with hobnailed stogey boots to look for his cattle in the woods.

  The opinion even of good hunters is very unreliable. Unless they are hunting they know little about what part of the range the deer are actually most plenty upon. And if they are hunting, a stranger can scarcely expect them to introduce him to their best preserves. That is a little thicker cream than can be reasonably expected to rise on even the richest milk of human kindness. Yet there are many hunters capable of just such weakness whose hearts open at once towards the genial, gentlemanly stranger who gives himself no airs and makes no pretensions. And right here it is my duty to say that if you are out for only two or three days hunt, if your object be only to kill a deer for the sake of saying you have killed one, and you do not intend to continue still-hunting, the very best thing you can do is to entwine yourself around the heart of such a hunter and, if necessary, pay him a fair price to work you up a good shot. If you cannot do this and have little time or patience to spend, you had better go home and leave deer alone, for the chances are that, that even with all the advice that anyone can give, you will be deeply disappointed.

  There is scarcely any kind of ground on which deer may not sometimes be found in considerable numbers, provided it be somewhat broken and contain some cover, brush or trees. The deer loves cover and will have it. He loves browse and will have it, though he will be sometimes miles away from it. He loves ground more or less rough, and will rarely be found away from it unless there are extra inducements elsewhere, in the line of brush, long grass, or other good food and cover. As a rule, he loves water; though he belongs to that class of animals that will drink water if conveniently obtained, but can go without it entirely, even in the hottest summer weather, like the valley quail of Southern California. The deer will, however, often go a long distance for water, and this fact, combined with the fact that he can and often will go without it, makes the water question somewhat unreliable in determining his whereabouts.

  A kind of ground that in some parts of the country will never contain a deer may in other sections afford good sport. Yonder wide stretch of plain that looks so bare to the eye, and is so far away from timber or hills that in Minnesota or Wisconsin a hunter would not look at it, may in Southern California, Arizona, or Mexico contain numbers of deer in those gulches, cuts, gullies, and creek bottoms where from a distance the shrubbery looks too thin and sparse for even a jack-rabbit to live in. Yonder mountain, that even through the glass seems only a frowning mass of castle, crag, and boulder, may on inspection yield many a deer stowed away in its little brushy ravines or plateaus. And yonder wavy sea of stony ground, so utterly bare of grass, so bare even of brush except in the ravines, so bare of water that you cannot camp there, may at times afford you good sport. Hence it is about as puzzling to say where deer may not be found as to say where they may be.

  There is not so much difficulty about the antelope. There seems, indeed, to be no kind of ground too poor for him to live on and keep, too, in fair condition, though, unlike the deer, he lives mainly on grass in-stead of browse. Though he loves the plains, he has no objection to high rolling hills if they are not too brushy. But he hates brush and timber; and though he will occasionally go into thin brush or into very open timber, he need never be sought where either one is thick or extensive.

  No matter how carefully you may hunt, a deer often keeps a little gulch handy into which one jump makes him safe.

  As a rule, good deer and antelope hunting must be sought in pretty wild sections; and generally the wilder they are the better. This rule, again, has its exceptions, and they must not be forgotten. Many tracts of howling wilderness and many undisturbed and splendid mountain-sides are almost entirely bare of deer at all times, though all the conditions of good deer-range exist. On the other hand, many a tract that has been settled for years and contains two or three or four settlers cabins to the square mile will often contain deer enough for excellent sport. It is much the same with antelope; many a fine plain having been bare of them within the memory of the oldest Indians, others having a band or two that care nothing for its settlements, except to keep just out of shot, remaining on their old haunts until, one by one, they fade away before the relentless rifle.

  Neither the deer nor the antelope can, however, be called an admirer of civilization. Sometimes deer will at once forsake a good-sized valley or timber grove because a settler has moved into it, though this is apt to be the case only when it is isolated from the rest of the range. Antelope, too, will often cease to run up a valley leading from the plain when settlers have moved in, and this even though not hunted. Both of them hate sheep and will generally desert ground over which sheep range. But for cattle and horses they care nothing; in fact, rather seem to enjoy their company at times, provided the herdsmen do not come among them too often. But all such things affect only parts of the range and have little to do in determining its general character.

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Chapter 3

 

   Having selected the general range or tract upon which you will hunt, the next point is to determine upon what part of it will be best to hunt. For deer are not distributed generally over the whole even of the best ranges, but are more or less concentrated in particular parts. And this is so even when they are not banded but are living separately. The same is true of antelope even when the does are scattered with their kids and are not banded as they generally are. It is also a provoking fact that you have probably noticed in other branches of hunting, that the very best-looking ground is often bare of game. And deer, above all other things, fail to appreciate your kindness in selecting their abiding-places, and prefer to make their own selections.

  For these reasons you will do well to make the exploration of your ground and inspection of signs, etc., the principal object of your first day's hunt. I do not mean that you are to go carelessly or without a keen outlook for game. But before you can hunt to much advantage you must learn what is commonly termed "the lay of the land," and also know upon what parts of it the most deer are ranging. "The lay of the land" is of such importance that it must never be neglected. Every ridge, every pass, every valley, every spot that you are likely ever to travel again should be deeply impressed upon the memory, with its general character � either as a deer's feeding-ground, lying-down ground, lounging-ground, skulking-ground, or ground upon which deer rarely or never stop. The courses of all valleys should be noted so that you will know how the wind is in any one of them at any time, how the sun shines in them, the facilities for traveling in them quietly, and for seeing what is in them without climbing too high on the ridges. The best routes along the ridges should also be noted, with the best point of observation from any of them. In short, study how the ground may be traversed so as best to take advantage of the principles hereafter laid down.

  In most ranges the question of food will, at the proper time of year, aid you more than anything else in determining what hunters call the "run of the deer." The deer is a browsing animal. He cares but little for grass in general; though when it is young and tender, or when other kinds of food are scarce or the browse is old and tough, he will eat even grass. And some of the grasses, such as young wheat, oats, barley, eta, deer frequently eat. I have never known a deer to eat what is known as "dry feed," to wit, sundried grass, as antelope and stock do in California. Nor have I ever found "dry feed" in a deer's stomach. They eat the buds, twigs, and leaves of a vast variety of shrubs and trees. And this makes their feeding-ground for a large part of the year too general to be of much aid in determining their favorite haunts. They are fond of turnips, cabbage, beans, grapevines, and garden-stuff generally; but all such food is too accidental to influence their movements much. There is a long list of berries and fruits which they will eat; and individuals sometimes extend their researches beyond this list. I once shot a fat buck that contained half a peck of the worst kind of prickly pears. There are, however, but few fruits or nuts that influence their movements much, and of these the principal are chestnuts, beechnuts, and acorns. Wherever there is abundance of these, in a very short time after they begin to fall the deer will gather in to feed on them, sometimes shifting ground many miles to get convenient access to them. And of all these the most universal is the acorn. Deer are very fond of bush and scrub-oak acorns, which they begin to eat earlier in the season than the tree acorns, not being obliged to await their falling. But ground on which these grow is apt to be too brushy and make too much noise for very successful hunting. The best ground, for the beginner especially, is the ground known as "oak ridges," consisting of small "hog-backs" or higher ridges covered with black oak, red oak, and white oak. These are found throughout all the heavy forests of the Eastern and Western States, and here one has a prospect of interviewing a bear, as he too is fond of acorns. Moreover, if you hunt east of the Missouri you can do little till the leaves have fallen, and by that time, if it is a " acorn season," there will be more or less acorns upon almost any good deer-range. So you had better go first to the "oak ridges."

  One of the first points upon which you should satisfy yourself is this question: How much are the deer disturbed by still-hunting? For it is a settled fact, of which you must never lose sight, that a deer's habits and movements will be very much and very quickly influenced by still-hunting.

  It is a common idea with hunters that driving deer with hounds drives them away and makes them wilder. This may in some places be true. It may also be generally true if swift hounds be used. But there are places where it is not so, and within my observation deer have little fear of slow dogs. Deer that had been made so wild with still-hunting that it was almost impossible to get even sight of them except under the happiest combination of soft snow, favorable wind, and rolling ground, I have seen play along for half a mile across an open pine-chopping before two curs wallowing and yelping through the snow behind them. They seemed to consider it only fun, stopping every few jumps and looking back at the curs until they got within a few feet of them. About the tamest deer I ever met were some that were habitually chased with hounds and never still-hunted, and one of these I actually approached within five yards with a shot-gun.

  But more than any other thing they fear the still-hunter. Right well they learn, and quickly too, that mischief without warning now lurks in every corner of the once peaceful home. And quickly they adapt themselves to this change of affairs. I have seen men that were successful hunters ten and even five years ago, but who had not hunted of late, traverse their old grounds without getting a shot or scarcely seeing a "flag;" seeing plenty of tracks, however, and coming home wondering where the deer all were. I have seen deer that I positively knew had no other disturbance than my own hunting desert entirely the low hills and open cafions in which they were keeping before I began to trouble them, shift a thousand feet higher up, keep in the thick chaparral all day, and double their vigilance when they were out of it. They soon learn to watch more of the time; to lie down where they can see their back track; to go farther back into higher, rougher, and more brushy ground; to lie down longer during the day; to feed, water, and lounge about more at night; and to be on foot less during the day. They also learn to run on hearing a noise without stopping to look back; to keep on running long past the point where you can head them off; to slip away before you get in sight of them; to skulk and hide in thick brush and let you pass them; and a score of other tricks we will notice as we go on.

  While I prefer still-hunting to hounding as a far more scientific, wide-awake, and manly sport, as well as more healthful and less monotonous, there is no doubt in my mind which makes deer the wildest and drives them out the quickest. I have not a particle of interest in the question of "still-hunting versus hounding;" for the world is all before me and I shall hunt as I choose, but I want the beginner to under-stand thoroughly the effect of still-hunting on his game, whether my opinion suit him or not.

  Keeping well in mind these points, go directly to the oak ridges if it is acorn time; for here you will find the most indications as to the number of deer about, though these indications are the least reliable of all. The less the deer are disturbed the more time they will spend upon these ridges, and generally the larger will be the proportion of deer from the whole range that frequent them to feed. Hence the greater will be the quantity of what is called "sign."

  Signs consist of tracks, droppings, beds, pawing or scraping places, places where the brush has been hooked with horns, or the bark of small trees frayed by the rubbing of horns against it, the nipped-off shoots and twigs of brush, etc. Of these the only reliable signs by which to judge of the number of deer about are the tracks, droppings, and beds. All else you need not consider at present. The fraying of bark is only where the buck has rubbed the velvet from his horns. As this is done late in the summer it is of no use to you now. The hooked brush indicates the commencement of " running-time;" of which here-after. It will, however, give you some idea of the number of bucks about; though one energetic buck will fight a great many bushes in one night. The same is true of pawing and scraping places, except where snow is pawed up to get at acorns.

  Having reached the ridges, pass on from ridge to ridge, noting carefully the quantity of tracks and droppings, and especially the size of both. It is a common mistake, into which hunters of some experience often fall, to count, unconsciously often, a deer to every sign or two. The beginner especially is almost certain to estimate the number of deer from six to ten times too high. The age of both tracks and droppings is quite as important to be noted. As it is nearly impossible to describe the difference between a stale track or dropping and a fresh one, this point must be left to your common-sense aided by experience. Stateness is, however, as easy to detect with the eye as it is hard to capture with the pen.

  As there may be two or more deer of the same size, you may of course underestimate the number of deer. But there is little danger of this. Nearly all the danger lies in overestimating their number.

  Little can be determined, however, from a small tract of ground. One deer, especially an old buck in the fall, will often track up two or three acres or more so that one would think there had been a dozen deer there; while the common expression "just like sheep-tracks" with which some ignoramus is wont to addle the beginner's head is often based on the work of two or three deer over a few acres of ground.

  You must move on, then, over a considerable area of ground. And in so doing it is still more important to note the size and freshness of the tracks and droppings. For the very same deer may have marked several acres yesterday and several different acres each day before, until nearly a hundred acres may be so marked that to the careless eye it would look like the work of fifty deer.

  As a rule, deer do not travel far if undisturbed. And they generally travel less in timber than in open ground. With the exception of a buck in the fall, deer in timber seldom have a daily range of over half a mile in diameter, and in open ground seldom over a mile. In brush it is often much less. This is, how-ever, on the assumption that food, water, and ground for lying down are all near each other. For if these are not near together a deer may travel very far. I have known them to go three miles for acorns, a mile or two from there to water, and a mile or two in another direction to lie down. I have known them descend five thousand feet at night for food and water, returning at daybreak to the very tops of the highest ridges in the timber-belt. Disturbance will also soon drive them to this. But where undisturbed, and where food, water, and good ground in which to lie down (of which hereaf4er) are close together, a deer's daily circuit is generally very limited. They will, however, often change this circuit, sometimes every day for a few days, sometimes every few days, and sometimes will spend a week or more on a thirty- or forty-acre piece of ground. This change of daily circuit is, how-ever, not extensive, being comprised often within a circle of a mile in diameter, and seldom exceeding two or three miles except for such special causes as much hunting and great distances between food, water, and cover, etc.

  In thus examining ground to determine something about the amount of deer, there are certain places which require special attention. Next to the actual feeding-ground there is scarcely any place more certain to have signs and show them plainly than burnt-off ground. Why the deer resort to burnt ground is of little consequence. It is certain that the tender shoots of grass, etc., which spring up there are not the sole attraction. For often they begin to frequent it as soon as it is fairly cooled off, and continue to frequent it even in those countries where there is no summer rain to start any vegetation upon it In brushy countries this is the very best ground on which to hunt, especially when after a cold night the morning sun shines brightly into it.

  Look also in the ravines and swales that lie between ridges; along the edges and in the open parts of thickets; along the bottoms and in the flats by little creeks and rivulets; in and around the heads of ravines, especially if the heads are brushy; around the edges of windfalls, especially fresh ones, as the deer will come to browse on the tops of trees and on the young saplings that have been knocked down by the larger trees. Look also in the edges and open places of the brush on the outer edge of timber, especially if it be hazel, on which they love to browse when in bud. Look also on all the highest points in the timber, on the points and backbones of ridges, the passes from ridge to ridge, and the connecting ridge of several ridges.

  In inspecting open country do the same, but pay special attention to the bottoms and sides of valleys and the top of dividing ridges between them. For here, if the country be at all rough, you will be quite apt to find the trails or runways of the deer.

  In those countries containing cattle running at large the cattle-paths are also good places to find deer-tracks, especially those paths leading to water or to high, rough, or brushy ground. On ground so open as to approach prairie in character, look well around the sides, heads, and mouths of all gullies, gulches, etc., and the nearest passes from one to the other across intervening ridges; also in and around all patches of brush or timber, and all sloughs or other places full of very long high grass, reeds, etc.

  In inspecting ground in those countries like California and the other Spanish-American States in which there is a long season without rain, you may save time by going first to the watering-places, which will be some distance apart. But here you may easily draw wrong conclusions, as even in the very hottest and driest weather deer often go a day or more with-out drinking at all. And where it is much trouble for them to get it they will often go without it altogether. And when the browse is young, soft, and succulent, as well as when it is wet overnight with dew or fog, they will generally dispense with water even though it be close at hand. The deer is also a quick drinker, and when he goes only for a drink and not to get rid of flies, etc., generally wastes little time around a spring, especially if much hunted. In these dry countries, too, the tracks are soon obliterated by those of quails, animals, ants, and other creatures. There may also be other water-holes near at hand of which you are unaware. So you must beware how you decide from the absence of tracks that there are no deer about. Deer also often remain several days or even weeks in dense chaparral, moving very little, though this is not apt to be the case in the fall, when deer move more than in summer and winter.

  On the other hand, if you find many tracks at the water you must be careful not to reckon a deer to every four hoof-prints. When several deer come to water together they may crowd and jostle each other around the edge and change their standing-places so often that the whole margin of the water is cut up. Or some may stand around while the others drink, and if not hunted or disturbed much they may linger about a while. On such ground every track shows.

  In all such cases lose no time at the spring, but circle around one hundred or two hundred yards away from it, examining carefully all the trails and open places in the brush or natural passes among rocks that lead to the water. For even where deer generally have no regular runways they nearly always have certain directions from which to approach a spring, and will either make some paths of their own or take those made by cattle or other animals. Here also much ground must be examined, for upon dry ground tracks (except in trails) are not readily seen by the unpracticed eye; and to such an eye both tracks and droppings are apt to appear as fresh today as they would have seemed yesterday.

  These same principles apply to examining almost any kind of ground. Deer are often found in great numbers in dense jungles of canebrake, swamp, and chaparral. But in such ground little can be done by still-hunting proper. One can only get them by driving or by hunting around the open places in the morning and evening, when they may be out.

  Antelope are such rangers that this kind of inspection will not do for them. Besides, they are so sure to be on foot during a great part of the day, to be in bands, and to be on open ground, that the quickest way to find them is to ride over the country, stopping at every eminence and sweeping the country with a good glass. They will go great distances for water, seeming to need it more than deer do; and as they generally go to it in a band like cattle, the water-holes are the places to look for their tracks.

  And now a puzzling question may meet the beginner-, namely. What is plenty? and are deer plenty enough to hunt ?

  The word "plenty" has of course different meanings for different kinds of game. One bear to the square mile would be plenty for bears, in most bear countries; yet one deer to the square mile would hardly be worth hunting except upon very favorable ground, and then you would generally need snow. "Plenty" varies also in meaning with localities. In parts of Northern California plenty - a few years ago at least - would mean forty or fifty deer to the square mile, while in San Diego we call five to the square mile plenty. In such heavy timber as covers the north of Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota an average of ten to the square mile would be quite plenty, and five to the square mile would be plenty enough for the best of sport on light snow.

  The word "plenty" varies, again, with the persons using it. A man finds his turnip-patch well tracked up and talks of "plenty of deer," " lots of deer," "just like a sheep-yard," etc., when in fact it is all done by two or three deer that are by daylight a mile or more away safely ensconced in some windfall or brush-patch, without another deer within two or three miles. " The deer are so plenty they are destroying the vineyards" is a species of twaddle very common in the papers of Southern California. He who lies out a few moonlight nights to watch one of those selfsame vineyards, or, failing in that, attempts to follow the tracks of the ravagers back to their mountain-home in the morning, if he is fortunate enough to get even a sight of the old doe and two fawns, accompanied perhaps by a buck or a yearling or two, that did the whole mischief, returns hot, breathless, and disgusted from a long scramble among the rocks and brush, and goes home with a vastly different notion of " lots of deer" from what he had when he came out.

  One of the first and most ineradicable ideas the beginner gets is that there are about ten or twenty times as many deer about him as there really are. The consequence is a speedy feeling of disappointment. If in the course of a day's walk you start six or eight deer - that is, either see them or find where they have run away from you - and can find tracks or dropping not over a day or two old at every fifty or one hundred yards of most of your course over the kinds of ground above described, you may consider deer quite plenty enough for the best of sport.

  Antelope, being banded, being on open ground, and visible at such long distances, will afford good sport on a far smaller average to the square mile than will deer. That is, on ground suitable for still-hunting. And this is a question that for either antelope or deer should be decided before you waste any time in hunting it.

  Upon some kinds of ground successful still-hunting is almost an impossibility; while in ground that is suitable for it there is such a difference that five or six deer to the square mile upon one kind will give better success than twenty to the square mile upon another kind. The best kind is timber that is open enough to allow you to see at least a hundred and fifty yards in any direction, free enough from underbrush to allow you to walk without touching too much of it, yet brushy enough in places to afford good browse and lying-down covert for deer, and, above all, rolling enough to allow you to keep out of sight behind ridges and look down into hollows and basins. Ground that is very brushy or quite level is very difficult for anyone to hunt alone, and had better be entirely shunned by the novice, as his lot will almost certainly be vexatious disappointment. But, as I shall show hereafter, brushy ground may sometimes be hunted to advantage by two or more persons; and if there are openings enough through it, it may afford good sport in the season called " running time."

  As a rule, the more rolling the ground the shorter "the breaks," and the higher the ridges, up to a hundred and fifty feet or so, the better. If it roll too much and the ridges be too high, it will make your walking too laborious and your shots too long. The best of all ground consists of hard-wood timber, well open beneath and broken into ridges about fifty feet high. Such ground generally contains acorns in the fall, has plenty of windfalls and brush to make lying-down cover for deer in the daytime, while the tops of the ridges are generally clear enough of brush to allow still movements of the hunter and afford him a good view in nearly all directions. Whether you hunt in timber or open country, the more nearly your ground approaches the rolling character of these oak ridge forests the better your chances of success.

  For antelope-hunting much the same kind of ground, though built on a larger scale, is generally necessary. On a broad level plain it is now almost impossible to get within shot of antelope except by some kind of trick in the way of disguise. And even that must be an unusually smart invention. Quite rolling ground is the best on which to approach them; and if the antelope are in numerous bands or small bunches, this is the only sure ground upon which to get close shots except by such tricks as flagging, etc. But if they are scarce or all in one band, it is often impossible to look over enough of this kind of ground to find where they are without in many cases a vast amount of traveling, there being so many places where they can be out of sight in a valley or behind some knolls.