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diff --git a/32319.txt b/32319.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3df01c9 --- /dev/null +++ b/32319.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1429 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Trail of the Sandhill Stag, by Ernest Seton-Thompson + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Trail of the Sandhill Stag + +Author: Ernest Seton-Thompson + +Release Date: May 10, 2010 [EBook #32319] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF THE SANDHILL STAG *** + + + + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Steven desJardins +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + +[Illustration: The Trail of the Sandhill Stag] + + + + +[Illustration: "The Track of a Mother Blacktail was suddenly joined by +two Little Ones' Tracks."] + + + + +THE TRAIL OF THE SANDHILL STAG +AND 60 DRAWINGS + +[Illustration] + +BY +ERNEST THOMPSON SETON +[Illustration] +Naturalist to the Government of Manitoba + +Author of +Wild Animals I Have Known +Art Anatomy of Animals +Mammals of Manitoba +Birds of Manitoba + +Published by Charles Scribner's Sons New York City A.D. 1914 + +[Illustration] + +Copyright, 1899, by +Ernest Seton-Thompson + + +First +Impression +October +12 +1899 + +Second +Impression +February +16 +1900 + +Third +Impression +December +20 +1900 + +Fourth +Impression +July +16 +1901 + +Fifth +Impression +August +18 +1902 + +Sixth +Impression +October +29 +1904 + +Seventh +Impression +November +30 +1908 + +Eighth +Impression +November +1 +1910 + +Ninth +Impression +April +10 +1913 + +Tenth +Impression +December +10 +1913 + +THE SCRIBNER PRESS + + + + +This Book is dedicated to the Old-timers of the Big Plain of Manitoba. + +[Illustration] + + + + +[Illustration] + + + To the Reader: + + These are the best days of my life. + These are my golden days. + + + + + In this Book the designs for title-page, cover, and + general make-up, and also the literary revision, were + done by Mrs. Grace Gallatin Thompson Seton. + +[Illustration] + + + + +List of full-page Drawings + +[Illustration] + +"The Track of a Mother Blacktail +was suddenly joined by two Little +Ones' Tracks" frontispiece + +The Trail Spring page 14 + +"Wingless Birds" 22 + +"Sat down in the Moonlit Snow" 37 + +"Seven Deer, ... their Leader a wonderful +Buck" 56 + +"The Doe was walking slowly" 63 + +"Scanned the White World for his foe" 80 + +The Stag 89 + + + + +[Illustration: The Trail Spring.] + + + + +I + + +It was a burning hot day. Yan was wandering in pursuit of birds among +the endless groves and glades of the Sandhill wilderness about +Carberry. The water in the numerous marshy ponds was warm with the sun +heat, so Yan cut across to the trail spring, the only place in the +country where he might find a cooling drink. As he stooped beside it +his eye fell on a small hoof-mark in the mud, a sharp and elegant +track. + +[Illustration] + +He had never seen one like it before, but it gave him a thrill, for he +knew at once it was the track of a _wild deer_. + +"There are no deer in those hills now," the settlers told Yan. Yet +when the first snow came that autumn he, remembering the hoof-mark in +the mud, quietly took down his rifle and said to himself, "I am going +into the hills every day till I bring out a deer." Yan was a tall, raw +lad in the last of his teens. He was no hunter yet, but he was a +tireless runner, and filled with unflagging zeal. Away to the hills he +went on his quest day after day, and many a score of long white miles +he coursed, and night after night he returned to the shanty without +seeing even a track. But the longest chase will end. On a far, hard +trip in the southern hills he came at last on the trail of a deer--dim +and stale, but still a deer-trail--and again he felt a thrill as the +thought came, "At the other end of that line of dimples in the snow is +the creature that made them; each one is fresher than the last, and it +is only a question of time for me to come up with their maker." + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +At first Yan could not tell by the dim track which way the animal had +gone. But he soon found that the mark was a little sharper at one end, +and rightly guessed that that was the toe; also he noticed that the +spaces shortened in going up hill, and at last a clear imprint in a +sandy place ended all doubt. Away he went with a new fire in his +blood, and an odd prickling in his hair; away on a long, hard follow +through interminable woods and hills, with the trail growing fresher +as he flew. All day he followed, and toward night it turned and led +him homeward. On it went, soon over familiar ground, back to the +sawmill, then over Mitchell's Plain, and at last into the thick poplar +woods near by, where Yan left it when it was too dark to follow. He +was only seven miles from home, and this he easily trotted in an hour. + +[Illustration] + +In the morning he was back to take it up, but instead of an old +track, there were now so many fresh ones, crossing and winding, that +he could not follow at all. So he prowled along haphazard, until he +found two tracks so new that he could easily trail them as before, and +he eagerly gave chase. As he sneaked along watching the tracks at his +feet instead of the woods ahead, he was startled by two big-eared, +grayish animals springing from a little glade into which he had +stumbled. They trotted to a bank fifty yards away and then turned to +gaze at him. + +[Illustration] + +How they did seem to _look_ with their great ears! How they spellbound +him by the soft gaze that he felt rather than saw! He knew what they +were. Had he not for weeks been holding ready, preparing and hungering +for this very sight! And yet how useless were his preparations; how +wholly all his preconcepts were swept away, and a wonder-stricken + +"Oh-h-h!" went softly from his throat. + +As he stood and gazed, they turned their heads away, though they still +seemed to look at him with their great ears, and trotting a few steps +to a smoother place, began to bound up and down in a sort of play. +They seemed to have forgotten him, and it was bewildering to see the +wonderful effortless way in which, by a tiny toe-touch, they would +rise six or eight feet in air. Yan stood fascinated by the strange +play of the light-limbed, gray-furred creatures. There was no haste or +alarm in their movements; he would watch them until they began to run +away--till they should take fright and begin the labored straining, +the vast athletic bounds, he had heard of. And it was only on noting +that they were rapidly fading into the distance that he realized that +_now_ they were running away, _already_ were flying for safety. + +[Illustration: "Wingless Birds."] + +Higher and higher they rose each time; gracefully their bodies swayed +inward as they curved along some bold ridge, or for a long space the +buff-white scutcheons that they bore behind them seemed hanging in +the air while these wingless birds were really sailing over some deep +gully. + +Yan stood intensely gazing until they were out of sight, and it never +once occurred to him to shoot. + +When they were gone he went to the place where they had begun their +play. Here was one track; where was the next? He looked all around and +was surprised to see a blank for fifteen feet; and then another blank, +and on farther, another: then the blanks increased to eighteen feet, +then to twenty, then to twenty-five and sometimes thirty feet. Each of +these playful, effortless bounds covered a space of eighteen to thirty +feet. + +Gods above! They do not run at all, they fly; and once in a while come +down again to tap the hill-tops with their dainty hoofs. + + * * * * * + +"I'm glad they got away," said Yan. "They've shown me something to-day +that never man saw before. I know that no one else has ever seen it, +or he would have told of it." + +[Illustration] + + + + +II + + +Yet when the morning came the old wolfish instinct was back in his +heart. "I must away to the hills," he said, "take up the trail, and be +a beast of the chase once more; my wits against their wits; my +strength against their strength; and against their speed, my gun." + +[Illustration] + +Oh! those glorious hills--an endless rolling stretch of sandy dunes, +with lakes and woods and grassy lawns between. Life--life on every +side, and life within, for Yan was young and strong and joyed in +powers complete. "These are the best days of my life," he said, "these +are my golden days." He thought it then, and oh, how well he came to +know it in the after years! + +[Illustration] + +All day at a long wolf-lope he would go and send the white hare and +the partridge flying from his path, and swing along and scan the +ground for sign and the telltale inscript in the snow, the oldest of +all writing, more thrillful of interest by far than the finest glyph +or scarab that ever Egypt gave to modern day. + +But the driving snow was the wild deer's friend, as the driven snow +was his foe, and down it came that day and wiped out every trace. + +[Illustration] + +The next day and the next still found Yan careering in the hills, but +never a track or sign did he see. And the weeks went by, and many a +rolling mile he ran, and many a bitter day and freezing night he +passed in the snow-clad hills, sometimes on a deer-trail but more +often without; sometimes in the barren hills, and sometimes led by +woodmen's talk to far-off sheltering woods, and once or twice he saw +indeed the buff-white bannerets go floating up the hills. Sometimes +reports came of a great buck that frequented the timber-lands near the +sawmill, and more than once Yan found his trail, but never got a +glimpse of him; and the few deer there were now grew so wild with long +pursuit that he had no further chances to shoot, and the hunting +season passed in one long train of failures. + +[Illustration] + +Bright, unsad failures they. He seemed indeed to come back +empty-handed, but he really came home laden with the best spoils of +the chase, and he knew it more and more, as time went on, till every +day, at last, on the clear unending trail, was a glad triumphant +march. + + + + +III + + +[Illustration] + +The year went by. Another season came, and Yan felt in his heart the +hunter fret once more. Even had he not, the talk he heard would have +set him all afire. + +It told of a mighty buck that now lived in the hills--the Sandhill +Stag they called him. It told of his size, his speed, and the crowning +glory that he bore on his brow, a marvellous growth like sculptured +bronze with gleaming ivory points. + +[Illustration] + +So when the first tracking snow came, Yan set out with some comrades +who had caught a faint reflected glow of his ardor. They drove in a +sleigh to the Spruce Hill, then scattered to meet again at sunset. The +woods about abounded in hares and grouse, and the powder burned all +around. But no deer-track was to be found, so Yan quietly left the +woods and set off alone for Kennedy's Plain, where last this wonderful +buck had been seen. + +[Illustration] + +After a few miles he came on a great deer-track, so large and sharp +and broken by such mighty bounds that he knew it at once for the trail +of the Sandhill Stag. + +[Illustration] + +With a sudden rush of strength to his limbs he led away like a wolf on +the trail. And down his spine and in his hair he felt as before, and +yet as never before, the strange prickling that he knew was the same +as makes the wolf's mane bristle when he hunts. He followed till night +was near and he must needs turn, for the Spruce Hill was many miles +away. + +He knew that it would be long after sunset before he could get there, +and he scarcely expected that his comrades would wait for him, but he +did not care; he gloried in the independence of his strength, for his +legs were like iron and his wind was like a hound's. Ten miles were +no more to him than a mile to another man, for he could run all day +and come home fresh, and always when alone in the lone hills he felt +within so glad a gush of wild exhilaration that his joy was full. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +So when his friends, feeling sure that he could take care of himself, +drove home and left him, he was glad to be left. They seemed rather to +pity him for imposing on himself such long, toilsome tramps. They had +no realization of what he found in those wind-swept hills. They never +once thought what they and all their friends and every man that ever +lived has striven for and offered his body, his brain, his freedom, +and his life to buy; what they were vainly wearing out their lives in +fearful, hopeless drudgery to gain, that boy was daily finding in +those hills. The bitter, biting, blizzard wind was without, but the +fire of health and youth was within; and at every stride in his daily +march, it was _happiness_ he found, and he knew it. And he smiled such +a gentle smile when he thought of those driven home in the sleigh +shivering and miserable, _yet pitying him_. + +[Illustration] + +Oh, what a glorious sunset he saw that day on Kennedy's Plain, with +the snow dyed red and the poplar woods aglow in pink and gold! What a +glorious tramp through the darkening woods as the shadows fell and +the yellow moon came up! + +[Illustration] + +"These are the best days of my life," he sang. "These are my golden +days!" + +And as he neared the great Spruce Hill, Yan yelled a long hurrah! "In +case they are still there," he told himself, but really for very joy +of feeling all alive. + +As he listened for the improbable response, he heard a faint howling +of wolves away over Kennedy's Plain. He mimicked their cry and quickly +got response, and noticed that they were gathering together, doubtless +hunting something, for now it was their hunting-cry. Nearer and nearer +it came, and his howls brought ready answers from the gloomy echoing +woods, when suddenly it flashed upon him: "It's _my_ trail you are on. +_You are hunting me._" + +[Illustration: "Sat down in the Moonlit Snow."] + +The road now led across a little open plain. It would have been +madness to climb a tree in such a fearful frost, so he went out to the +middle of the open place and sat down in the moonlit snow--a +glittering rifle in his hands, a row of shining brass pegs in his +belt, and a strange, new feeling in his heart. On came the chorus, a +deep, melodious howling, on to the very edge of the woods, and there +the note changed. Then there was silence. They must have seen him +sitting there, for the light was like day, but they went around in +the edge of the woods. A stick snapped to the right and a low '_Woof_' +came from the left. Then all was still. Yan felt them sneaking around, +felt them watching him from the cover, and strained his eyes in vain +to see some form that he might shoot. But they were wise, and he was +wise, for had he run he would soon have seen them closing in on him. +They must have been but few, for after their council of war they +decided he was better let alone, and he never saw them at all. For +twenty minutes he waited, but hearing no more of them, arose and went +homeward. And as he tramped he thought, "Now I know how a deer feels +when the grind of a moccasined foot or the click of a lock is heard +in the trail behind him." + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +In the days that followed he learned those Sandhills well, for many a +frosty day and bitter night he spent in them. He learned to follow +fast the faintest trail of deer. He learned just why that trail went +never past a tamarack-tree, and why it pawed the snow at every oak, +and why the buck's is plainest and the fawn's down wind. He learned +just what the club-rush has to say, when its tussocks break the snow. +He came to know how the musk-rat lives beneath the ice, and why the +mink slides down a hill, and what the ice says when it screams at +night. The squirrels taught him how best a fir-cone can be stripped +and which of toadstools one might eat. The partridge, why it dives +beneath the snow, and the fox, just why he sets his feet so straight, +and why he wears so huge a tail. + +[Illustration] + +He learned the ponds, the woods, the hills, and a hundred secrets of +the trail, but--_he got no deer_. + +And though many a score of crooked frosty miles he coursed, and +sometimes had a track to lead and sometimes none, he still went on, +like Galahad when the Grail was just before him. For more than once, +the guide that led was the trail of the Sandhill Stag. + + + + +IV + + +[Illustration] + +The hunt was nearly over, for the season's end was nigh. The +moose-birds had picked the last of the saskatoons, all the +spruce-cones were scaled, and the hunger-moon was at hand. But a +hopeful chickadee sang '_See soon_' as Yan set off one frosty day for +the great Spruce Woods. On the road he overtook a woodcutter, who told +him that at such a place he had seen two deer last night, a doe and a +monstrous stag with "a rocking-chair on his head." + +[Illustration] + +Straight to the very place went Yan, and found the tracks--one like +those he had seen in the mud long ago, another a large unmistakable +print, the mark of the Sandhill Stag. + +How the wild beast in his heart did ramp--he wanted to howl like a +wolf on a hot scent; and away they went through woods and hills, the +trail and Yan and the inner wolf. + +[Illustration] + +All day he followed and, grown crafty himself, remarked each sign, and +rejoiced to find that nowhere had the deer been bounding. And when the +sun was low the sign was warm, so laying aside unneeded things, Yan +crawled along like a snake on the track of a hare. All day the animals +had zigzagged as they fed; their drink was snow, and now at length +away across a lawn in a bank of brush Yan spied a _something_ flash. A +bird perhaps; he lay still and watched. Then gray among the gray +brush, he made out a great log, and from one end of it rose two +gnarled oaken boughs. Again the flash--the move of a restless ear, +then the oak boughs moved and Yan trembled, for he knew that the log +in the brush was the form of the Sandhill Stag. So grand, so charged +with _life_. He seemed a precious, sacred thing--a king, fur-robed and +duly crowned. To think of shooting now as he lay unconscious, +resting, seemed an awful crime. But Yan for weeks and months had pined +for this. His chance had come, and shoot he must. The long, long +strain grew tighter yet--grew taut--broke down, as up the rifle went. +But the wretched thing kept wabbling and pointing all about the little +glade. His breath came hot and fast and choking--so much, so very +much, so clearly all, hung on a single touch. He laid the rifle down, +revulsed--and trembled in the snow. But he soon regained the mastery, +his hand was steady now, the sights in line--'twas but a deer out +yonder. But at that moment the Stag turned full Yan's way, with those +regardful eyes and ears, and nostrils too, and gazed. + +"Darest thou slay me?" said an uncrowned, unarmed king once, as his +eyes fell on the assassin's knife, and in that clear, calm gaze the +murderer quailed and cowed. + +So trembled Yan; but he knew it was only stag-fever, and he despised +it then as he came in time to honor it; and the beast that dwelt +within him fired the gun. + +The ball splashed short. The buck sprang up and the doe appeared. +Another shot; then, as they fled, another and another. But away the +deer went, lightly drifting across the low round hills. + + + + +V + + +[Illustration] + +He followed their trail for some time, but gnashed his teeth to find +no sign of blood, and he burned with a raging animal sense that was +neither love nor hate. Within a mile there was a new sign that joined +on and filled him with another rage and shed light on many a bloody +page of frontier history--a moccasin-track, a straight-set, +broad-toed, moosehide track, the track of a Cree brave. He followed in +savage humor, and as he careered up a slope a tall form rose from a +log, raising one hand in peaceable gesture. Although Yan was behind, +the Indian had seen him first. + +"Who are you?" said Yan, roughly. + +"Chaska." + +"What are you doing in my country?" + +"It was my country first," he replied gravely. + +"Those are my deer," Yan said, and thought. + +"No man owns wild deer till he kills them," said Chaska. + +"You better keep off any trail I'm following." + +"Not afraid," said he, and made a gesture to include the whole +settlement, then added gently, "No good to fight; the best man will +get the most deer anyhow." + +[Illustration] + +And the end of it was that Yan stayed for several days with Chaska, +and got, not an antlered buck indeed, but, better far, an insight into +the ways of a man who could hunt. The Indian taught him _not_ to +follow the trail over the hills, for deer watch their back track, and +cross the hills to make this more easy. He taught him to tell by touch +and smell of sign just how far ahead they are, as well as the size and +condition of the deer, and not to trail closely when the game is near. +He taught him to study the wind by raising his moistened finger in the +air, and Yan thought, "Now I know why a deer's nose is always moist, +for he must always watch the wind." He showed Yan how much may be +gained at times by patient waiting, and that it is better to tread +like an Indian with foot set straight, for thereby one gains an inch +or two at each stride and can come back in one's own track through +deep snow. And he also unwittingly taught him that an Indian _cannot_ +shoot with a rifle, and Natty Bumpo's adage came to mind, "A white man +can shoot with a gun, but it ain't accordin' to an Injun's gifts." + +[Illustration] + +Sometimes they went out together and sometimes singly. One day, while +out alone, Yan had followed a deer-track into a thicket by what is +now called Chaska Lake. The sign was fresh, and as he sneaked around +there was a rustle in the brush. Then he saw the kinnikinnick boughs +shaking. His gun flew up and covered the spot. As soon as he was sure +of the place he meant to fire. But when he saw the creature as a dusky +moving form through the twigs, he awaited a better view, which came, +and he had almost pulled the trigger when his hand was stayed by a +glimpse of red, and a moment later out stepped--Chaska. + +"Chaska," Yan gasped, "I nearly did for you." + +[Illustration] + +For reply the Indian drew his finger across the red handkerchief on +his brow. Yan knew then one reason why a hunting Indian always wears +it; after that he wore one himself. + +One day a flock of prairie-chickens flew high overhead toward the +thick Spruce Woods. Others followed, and it seemed to be a general +move. Chaska looked toward them and said, "Chickens go hide in bush. +Blizzard to-night." + +It surely came, and the hunters stayed all day by the fire. Next day +it was as fierce as ever. On the third day it ceased somewhat, and +they hunted again. But Chaska returned with his gun broken by a fall, +and after a long silent smoke he said: + +"Yan hunt in Moose Mountain?" + +"No!" + +"Good hunting. Go?" + +Yan shook his head. + +Presently the Indian, glancing to the eastward, said, "Sioux tracks +there to-day. All bad medicine here." And Yan knew that his mind was +made up. He went away and they never met again, and all that is left +of him now is his name, borne by the lonely lake that lies in the +Carberry Hills. + +[Illustration] + + + + +VI + + +[Illustration] + +"There are more deer round Carberry now than ever before, and the Big +Stag has been seen between Kennedy's Plain and the mill." So said a +note that reached Yan away in the East, where he had been chafing in a +new and distasteful life. It was the beginning of the hunting season, +the fret was already in his blood, and that letter decided him. For a +while the iron horse, for a while the gentle horse, then he donned his +moosehide wings and flew as of old on many a long, hard flight, to +return as so often before. + +[Illustration] + +Then he heard that at a certain lake far to the eastward seven deer +had been seen; their leader a wonderful buck. + +[Illustration: "Seven Deer, ... their Leader a wonderful Buck."] + +With three others he set out in a sleigh to the eastward lake, and +soon found the tracks--six of various sizes and one large one, +undoubtedly that of the famous Stag. + +How utterly the veneer was torn to tatters by those seven chains of +tracks! How completely the wild paleolithic beast stood revealed in +each of the men, in spite of semi-modern garb, as they drove away on +the trail with a wild, excited gleam in every eye! + +It was nearly night before the trail warmed up, but even then, in +spite of Yan's earnest protest, they drove on in the sleigh. And soon +they came to where the trail told of seven keen observers looking +backward from a hill, then an even sevenfold chain of twenty-five-foot +bounds. The hunters got no glimpse at all, but followed till the night +came down, then hastily camped in the snow. + +In the morning they followed as before, and soon came to where seven +spots of black, bare ground showed where the deer had slept. + +[Illustration] + +Now when the trail grew warm Yan insisted on hunting on foot. He +trailed the deer into a great thicket, and knew just where they were +by a grouse that flew cackling from its farther side. + +He arranged a plan, but his friends would not await the blue-jay's +'all-right' note, and the deer escaped. But finding themselves hard +pressed, they split their band, two going one way and five another. +Yan kept with him one, Duff, and leaving the others to follow the five +deer, he took up the twofold trail. Why? Because in it was the great +broad track he had followed for two years back. + +On they went, overtaking the deer and causing them again to split. Yan +sent Duff after the doe, while he stuck relentlessly to the track of +the famous Stag. As the sun got low, the chase led to a great +half-wooded stretch, in a country new to him; for he had driven the +Stag far from his ancient range. The trail again grew hot, but just as +Yan felt sure he soon would close, two distant shots were heard, and +the track of the Stag as he found it then went off in a fear-winged +flight that might keep on for miles. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +Yan went at a run, and soon found Duff. He had had two long shots at +the doe. The second he thought had hit her. Within half a mile they +found blood on the trail; within another half-mile the blood was no +more seen and the track seemed to have grown very large and strong. +The snow was drifting and the marks not easily read, yet Yan knew +very soon that the track they were on was not that of the wounded doe, +but was surely that of her antlered mate. Back on the trail they ran +till they solved the doubt, for there they learned that the Stag, +after making his own escape, had come back to change off: an old, old +trick of the hunted whereby one deer will cleverly join on and carry +on the line of tracks to save another that is too hard pressed, while +it leaps aside to hide or fly in a different direction. Thus the Stag +had sought to save his wounded mate, but the hunters remorselessly +took up her trail and gloated like wolves over the slight drip of +blood. Within another short run they found that the Stag, having +failed to divert the chase to himself, had returned to her, and at +sundown they sighted them a quarter of a mile ahead mounting a long +snow-slope. The doe was walking slowly, with hanging head and ears. +The buck was running about as though in trouble that he did not +understand, and coming back to caress the doe and wonder why she +walked so slowly. In another half-mile the hunters came up with them. +She was down in the snow. When he saw them coming, the great Stag +shook the oak-tree on his brow and circled about in doubt, then fled +from a foe he was powerless to resist. + +[Illustration: "The Doe was walking slowly."] + +[Illustration] + +As the men came near the doe made a convulsive effort to rise, but +could not. Duff drew his knife. It never before occurred to Yan why he +and each of them carried a long knife. The poor doe turned on her foes +her great lustrous eyes; they were brimming with tears, but she made +no moan. Yan turned his back on the scene and covered his face with +his hands, but Duff went forward with the knife and did some dreadful, +unspeakable thing, Yan scarcely knew what, and when Duff called him he +slowly turned, and the big Stag's mate was lying quiet in the snow, +and the only living thing that they saw as they quit the scene was the +great round form bearing aloft the oak-tree on its brow as it haunted +the nearer hills. + +And when, an hour later, the men came with the sleigh to lift the +doe's body from the crimsoned snow, there were large fresh tracks +about it, and a dark shadow passed over the whitened hill into the +silent night. + + * * * * * + +What morbid thoughts came from the fire that night! How the man in Yan +did taunt the glutted brute! Was this the end? Was this the real +chase? After long weeks, with the ideal alone in mind, after countless +blessed failures, was this the vile success--a beautiful, glorious, +living creature tortured into a loathsome mass of carrion? + +[Illustration] + + + + +VII + + +But when the morning came the impress of the night was dim. A long +howl came over the hill, and the thought that a wolf was on the trail +that he was quitting smote sadly on Yan's heart. They all set out for +the settlement, but within an hour Yan only wanted an excuse to stay. +And when at length they ran onto the fresh track of the Sandhill Stag +himself, the lad was all ablaze once more. + +"I cannot go back--something tells me that I must stay--I must see him +face to face again." + +The rest had had enough of the bitter frost, so Yan took from the +sleigh a small pot, a blanket, and some food, and left them, to follow +alone the great sharp imprint in the snow. + +"Good-by--good luck!" + +[Illustration] + +He watched the sleigh out of sight, in the low hills, and then felt as +he never had before. Though he had been so many months alone in the +wilds, he had never known loneliness, but as soon as his friends were +gone he was overwhelmed by a sense of the utter heart-sickening +dreariness of the endless, snowy waste. Where were the charms that he +had never failed to find until now? He wanted to recall the sleigh, +but pride kept him silent. + +[Illustration] + +In a little while it was too late, and soon he was once more in the +power of that fascinating, endless chain of tracks,--a chain begun +years ago, when in a June the track of a mother Blacktail was suddenly +joined by two little ones' tracks. Since then the three had gone on +winding over the land the trail-chains they were forging,--knotted and +kinked, and twisted with every move and thought of the makers, +imprinted with every hap of their lives, but interrupted never wholly. +At times the tracks were joined by that of some fierce foe and the +kind of mark was changed, but the chains went on for months and years, +now fast, now slow, but endless, until some foe more strong joined on +and there one trail was ended. But this great Stag was forging still +that mystic chain. A million roods of hills had he overlaid with its +links, had scribbled over in this oldest script with the story of his +life. If only our eyes were bright enough to follow up that twenty +thousand miles of trail, what light unguessed we might obtain where +the wisest now are groping! + +[Illustration] + +But skin deep, man is brute. Just a little while ago we were mere +hunting brutes--our bellies were our only thought, that telltale line +of dots was the road to food. No man can follow it far without +feeling a wild beast prickling in his hair and down his spine. Away +Yan went, a hunter-brute once more, all other feelings swamped. + +[Illustration] + +Late that day the trail, after many a kink and seeming break, led into +a great dense thicket of brittle, quaking asp. Yan knew that the Stag +was there to lie at rest. The deer went in up-wind, of course. His +eyes and ears would watch his trail, and his nose would guard in +front, so Yan went in at one side, trusting to get a shot. With a very +agony of care he made his way, step by step, and, after many minutes, +surely found the track, still leading on. Another lengthy crawl, with +nerves at tense, and then the lad thought he heard a twig snapped +behind him, though the track was still ahead. And after long he found +it true. Before lying down the Stag had doubled back, and while Yan +had thought him still ahead, he was lying far behind, so had gotten +wind of the man and now was miles away. + +Once more into the unknown north away, till cold, black night came +down; then Yan sought out a sheltered spot and made a tiny, red-man's +fire. As Chaska had taught him long ago--'Big fire for fool.' + +When the lad curled up to sleep he felt a vague wish to turn three +times like a dog, and a well-defined wish that he had fur on his face +and a bushy tail to lay around his freezing hands and feet, for it was +a night of northern frost. Old Peboan was stalking on the snow. The +stars seemed to crackle, so one could almost hear. The trees and earth +were bursting with the awful frost. The ice on a near lake was rent +all night by cracks that went whooping from shore to shore; and down +between the hills there poured the cold that burns. + +[Illustration] + +[Illustration] + +A prairie-wolf came by in the night, but he did not howl or treat Yan +like an outsider now. He gave a gentle, doglike '_Woof, woof_,' a sort +of 'Oho! so you have come to it at last,' and passed away. Toward +morning the weather grew milder, but with the change there came a +driving snow. The track was blotted out. Yan had heeded nothing else, +and did not know where he was. After travelling an aimless mile or two +he decided to make for Pine Creek, which ought to lie southeastward. +But which way was southeast? The powdery snow was driven along through +the air, blinding, stinging, burning. On all things near it was like +smoke, and on farther things, a driving fog. But he made for a quaking +asp grove, and there, sticking through the snow, he found a crosier +golden-rod, dead and dry, but still faithfully delivering its +message, 'Yon is the north.' With course corrected, on he went, and, +whenever in doubt, dug out this compass-flower, till the country +dipped and Pine Creek lay below. + +[Illustration] + +There was good camping here, the very spot indeed where, fifteen years +before, Butler had camped on his Loneland Journey; but now the +blizzard had ceased, so Yan spent the day hunting without seeing a +track, and he spent the night as before, wishing that nature had been +kinder to him in the matter of fur. During that first lone night his +face and toes had been frozen and now bore burning sores. But still he +kept on the chase, for something within had told him that the Grail +was surely near. Next day a strange, unreasoning guess sent him east +across the creek in a deerless-looking barren land. Within half a mile +he came on dim tracks made lately in the storm. He followed, and soon +found where six deer had lain at rest, and among them a great, broad +bed and a giant track that only one could have made. The track was +almost fresh, the sign unfrozen still. "Within a mile," he thought. +But within a hundred yards there loomed up on a fog-wrapped hillside +five heads with ears regardant, and at that moment, too, there rose up +from the snowy top a great form like a blasted trunk with two dead +boughs still on. But they had seen him first, and before the deadly +gun could play, six beacons waved and a friendly hill had screened +them from its power. + +[Illustration] + +The Sandhill Stag had gathered his brood again, yet now that the +murderer was on the track once more, he scattered them as before. But +there was only one track for Yan. + +At last the chase led away to the great dip of Pine Creek--a mile-wide +flat, with a long, dense thicket down the middle. + +"There is where he is hiding and watching now, but there he will not +rest," said the something within, and Yan kept out of sight and +watched; after half an hour a dark spot left the willow belt and +wandered up the farther hill. When he was well out of sight over the +hill Yan ran across the valley and stalked around to get the trail on +the down-wind side. He found it, and there learned that the Stag was +as wise as he--he had climbed a good lookout and watched his back +trail, then seeing Yan crossing the flat, his track went swiftly +bounding, bounding--. + +[Illustration: "Scanned the White World for his Foe."] + +The Stag knew just how things stood; a single match to a finish now, +and he led away for a new region. But Yan was learning something he +had often heard--that the swiftest deer can be run down by a hardy +man; for he was as fresh as ever, but the great Stag's bounds were +shortening, he was surely tiring out, he must throw off the hunter +now, or he is lost. + +He often mounted a high hill to scan the white world for his foe, and +the after-trail was a record of what he learned or feared. At last his +trail came to a sudden end. This was a mystery until long study showed +how he had returned backward on his own track for a hundred yards, +then bounded aside to fly in another direction. Three times he did +this, and then passed through an aspen thicket and, returning, lay +down in this thicket near his own track, so that in following, Yan +must pass where the Stag could smell and hear him long before the +trail brought the hunter over-close. + +All these doublings and many more like them were patiently unravelled +and the shortening bounds were straightened out once more till, as +daylight waned, the tracks seemed to grow stale and the bounds again +grow long. After a little, Yan became wholly puzzled, so he stopped +right there and spent another wretched night. Next day at dawn he +worked it out. + +He found he had been running the trail he had already run. With a long +hark-back, the doubt was cleared. The desperate Stag had joined onto +his old track and bounded aside at length to let the hunter follow the +cold scent. But the join-on was found and the real trail read, and +the tale that it told was of a great Stag wearing out, too tired to +eat, too scared to sleep, with a tireless hunter after. + +[Illustration] + + + + +VIII + + +[Illustration] + +A last long follow brought the hunt back to familiar ground--a +marsh-encompassed tract of woods with three ways in. There was the +deer's trail entering. Yan felt he would not come out there, for he +knew his foe was following. So swiftly and silently the hunter made +for the second road on the down-wind side, and having hung his coat +and sash there on a swaying sapling, he hastened to the third way +out, and hid. After a while, seeing nothing, Yan gave the low call +that the jaybird gives when there's danger abroad in the woods. + +[Illustration] + +All deer take guidance from the jay, and away off in the encompassed +woods Yan saw the great Stag with wavering ears go up a high lookout. +A low whistle turned him to a statue, but he was far away with many a +twig between. For some seconds he stood sniffing the wind and gazing +with his back to his foe, watching the back trail, where so long his +enemy had been, but never dreaming of that enemy in ambush ahead. Then +the breeze set the coat on the sapling a-fluttering. The Stag quickly +quit the hillock, not leaping or crashing through the brush,--he had +years ago got past that,--but silent and weasel-like threading the +maze, he disappeared. Yan crouched in the willow thicket and strained +his every sense and tried to train his ears for keener watching. A +twig ticked in the copse that he was in. Yan slowly rose with nerve +and sense at tightest tense, the gun in line--and as he rose, there +also rose, but fifteen feet away, a wondrous pair of bronze and ivory +horns, a royal head, a noble form behind it, and face to face they +stood, Yan and the Sandhill Stag. At last--at last, his life was in +Yan's hands. The Stag flinched not, but stood and gazed with those +great ears and mournful, truthful eyes, and the rifle leaped but sank +again, for the Stag stood still and calmly looked him in the eyes, and +Yan felt the prickling fading from his scalp, his clenched teeth +eased, his limbs, bent as to spring, relaxed and manlike stood erect. + +'_Shoot, shoot, shoot now! This is what you have toiled for_,' said a +faint and fading voice, and spoke no more. + +[Illustration] + +But Yan remembered the night when he, himself run down, had turned to +face the hunting wolves, he remembered too that night when the snow +was red with crime, and now between him and the other there he dimly +saw a vision of an agonizing, dying doe, with great, sad eyes, that +only asked, 'What harm have I done you?' A change came over him, and +every thought of murder went from Yan as they gazed into each other's +eyes--and hearts. Yan could not look him in the eyes and take his +life, and different thoughts and a wholly different concept of the +Stag, coming--coming--long coming--had come. + + * * * * * + +"Oh, beautiful creature! One of our wise men has said, the body is the +soul made visible; is your spirit then so beautiful--as beautiful as +wise? We have long stood as foes, hunter and hunted, but now that +is changed and we stand face to face, fellow-creatures looking in each +other's eyes, not knowing each other's speech--but knowing motives and +feelings. Now I understand you as I never did before; surely you at +least in part understand me. For your life is at last in my power, yet +you have no fear. I knew of a deer once, that, run down by the hounds, +sought safety with the hunter, and he saved it--and you also I have +run down and you boldly seek safety with me. Yes! you are as wise as +you are beautiful, for I will never harm a hair of you. We are +brothers, oh, bounding Blacktail! only I am the elder and stronger, +and if only my strength could always be at hand to save you, you would +never come to harm. Go now, without fear, to range the piney hills; +never more shall I follow your trail with the wild wolf rampant in my +heart. Less and less as I grow do I see in your race mere flying +marks, or butcher-meat. We have grown, Little Brother, and learned +many things that you know not, but you have many a precious sense that +is wholly hidden from us. Go now without fear of me. + +[Illustration] + +"I may never see you again. But if only you would come sometimes and +look me in the eyes and make me feel as you have done to-day, you +would drive the wild beast wholly from my heart, and then the veil +would be a little drawn and I should know more of the things that wise +men have prayed for knowledge of. And yet I feel it never will be--I +have found the Grail. I have learned what Buddha learned. I shall +never see you again. Farewell." + +[Illustration] + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Trail of the Sandhill Stag, by +Ernest Seton-Thompson + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAIL OF THE SANDHILL STAG *** + +***** This file should be named 32319.txt or 32319.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/3/1/32319/ + +Produced by Chris Curnow, Joseph Cooper, Steven desJardins +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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