A FINE STAG SIGHTED 197

was probably my most enjoyable mule deer hunt came off.
About the third week in November, when the deer were
in full “ rut,” there was a slight fall of snow—just enough
to be the right depth for tracking. One morning about
eleven o’clock, after having travelled over a big extent of
country, I decided to sit down and take a thorough rest.
Up to that time nothing in the way of a deer that was
worth shooting had come under my observation, though
there were any number of does, fawns, and young stags
about. My position was on the highest point of a narrow-
topped hill, both sides of which sloped off at an easy grade.
The side I was facing was clear of trees and brush for
three hundred yards below me, but lower still, where
there was a bit of a valley, there was a scattered growth
of firs. Both to my right and left the open ground extended
for nearly a quarter of a mile.

After scanning all the country in sight for about twenty
minutes my eyes suddenly caught sight of an old doe
that came out of the timber on the lower edge of the
clear ground away off on my extreme right. She was
walking at a fast pace and heading along the open ground
so that she would pass along the edge of the timber below
me. While watching her I considered how it would be
advisable to go about making a stalk if it had been a big
stag instead of a doe. It seemed almost impossible to
approach any closer. While I was still thinking the
matter over, the doe passed immediately below me and
just then, out from the very same place where she had
put in an appearance, there hove into view a fine stag.

What to do was a problem. It was obvious that if it
were only possible to get down the hill a couple of hundred
yards an easy shot would be obtained, but it would be
dangerous to descend too far or he would get my wind,
which was blowing his way. The trouble was that there
was no way of getting down without being seen, while
to shoot from my present position meant taking what,
for the old-fashioned rifles, was a tremendously long shot.
Thereupon my mind was made up not to shoot from there
but to slip back over the other side of the hill, just far