Ever
Since I Have Been Here I Have Wanted To Go Back Of The Mountain By
That Path.
So, when I happened to be out on Pete yesterday afternoon
at the time the men started, I at once decided to take advantage of
their protection and ride around the little mountain.
About half a mile up, there were quantities of bushes eight and ten
feet high down in the creek bed, and the narrow trail that Pete was on
was about on a level with the tops of the bushes. At my left the hill
was very steep and covered with stones. I was having a delightful
time, feeling perfectly safe with so many soldiers within call. But
suddenly things changed. Down in those bushes there was a loud
crashing and snapping, and then straight up into the air jumped a
splendid deer! His head and most of his neck were above the bushes,
and for just one instant he looked at us with big inquisitive eyes
before he went down again.
When the deer went up Pete went up, too, on the steep hill, and as I
was on his back I had to go with him. The horse was badly frightened,
snorted, and raised his tail high, and when I tried to get him down on
the trail, the higher up he went on the rolling stones. I could almost
touch the side of the mountain with my whip in places, it was so
steep. It was a most dangerous position to be in, and just what
elevation I might have been carried to eventually I do not know, had
not the deer stopped his crashing through the bushes and bounded up on
the opposite bank, directly in front of the first team of mules, and
then on he streaked it across a plateau and far up a mountain side,
his short white tail showing distinctly as he ran.
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