It entered
his flank, ranged forward and emerged at the point of the opposite
shoulder. The deer turned and dashed into the bush. As it did so the
protruding arrow shaft snapped; we descended and picked up the broken
piece. Following the crashing descent of the buck down the canyon, we
found him some two hundred yards below, crumpled up and dead against a
madrone tree. It was a heart shot, one of the finest I ever hope to
see. Compton is a master at the judgment of distance and the speed of
running game.
Having worked out a piece of country by the method of sub-division, we
meet at a pre-arranged rendezvous and plan another sortie.
If the sun has not risen above the peaks, we continue this method of
combing the land until we know the time for bucks has passed. For this
reason we work the high points first, and the lower points last, for in
this way we take advantage of the slowly advancing illumination.
Sometimes, using glasses, we pick out a buck at a considerable
distance, either in his solitary retreat, or with a band of deer; and
we go after him. Here we figure out where he is traveling and make a
detour to intercept him.
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