n appeared on the
summit of a low hill, and stopped. The doe came up and stopped too, with
elevated nostrils, snuffing. For a rifle, in approved hands, there would
have been a chance for a shot. But the game was far beyond the range of
Jack's gun.

To try his nerve, however, he took aim, or, rather, attempted to take
aim. His hands--if the truth must be confessed--shook so that he could
not keep his piece steady for an instant. Cool fellow enough on ordinary
occasions, he now had a violent attack of what is called the "buck
fever."

Fortunately, the deer had not seen the horseman; and, while they were
recovering from their first alarm, they gave the young hunter time to
subdue, with resolute good sense, his terrible nervous agitation.

They did not stop to feed any more, but moved on, with occasional
pauses, toward the woods; following the line of the hollows, as Jack had
foreseen.

All this time the dog lay whining at his young master's heels. He knew
instinctively that there was sport on foot, and could hardly be kept
quiet.

The deer took another and final start, and came bounding along toward
the spot where the wagon had stood. But for the excitement of the
moment, Jack must have felt a touch of pity at sight of those two
slender, beautiful creatures, so full of life, making for their covert
in the cool woods. But the hunter's spirit was uppermost. He took aim at
the doe, followed her movements a moment with the moving gun, then
fired. She plunged forward, and dropped dead.

The fawn, confused by the report and by the doe's sudden fall, stood for
an instant quite still, then made a few bounds up toward the very spot
where the young hunter was concealed. It stopped again, within twenty
paces of the levelled gun. There it stood, its pretty spotted side
turned toward him, so fair a mark, and so charming a picture, that for a
moment, excited though he was, he could not have the heart to shoot. Ah!
what is this spirit of destruction, which has come down to us from our
barbarous forefathers, and which gives even good-hearted boys like Jack
a wild joy in taking life?

The dog, rendered ungovernable by the firing of the gun, made a noise in
the thicket. The fawn heard, and started to run away. The provocation
was too great for our young hunter, and he sent a charge of buck-shot
after it. The fawn did not fall.

"Take 'em, Lion!" shouted Jack; and out rushed the dog.

The poor thing had been wounded, and the dog