We had refrained for two days from disturbing the deer, and our
supply of fresh venison was entirely exhausted. Just at the outlet of
the lake we were leaving, is a little bay, towards the head of which
are a great number of boulders, laying around loose, scattered about
like haycocks in a meadow, only a great many more to the acre. The
water about these boulders is shallow, and the lily-pads and grasses
make a luxuriant pasture for the deer. Among these boulders, and
concealed by one of them, save when his head was up, was a deer. While
he fed we could see nothing of him, but when he raised his head to
look around him, that alone was visible above the rock. Smith and
myself were in the leading boat, he in the bow with his rifle. As the
current swept near the rocks where the deer was feeding, we let our
little craft drift quietly in that direction. As we came within
shooting distance, say from fifteen to twenty rods, Smith adjusted his
rifle, and as the animal raised its head above the rock, he sighted
him carefully, and fired. It was a beautiful shot. There was nothing
of the animal but the head visible, and the bullet, true to its aim,
struck it square between the eyes, and it fell dead. This shot,
together with the glory of killing the bear, elated Smith wonderfully,
and upon the strength of them, he assumed the championship of the
expedition.
Pages:
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282