huntin’ knife in my hand, took hold of his horn to raise his head so as to cut his throat.  If that deer was dead, he came to life mighty quick; for I had no sooner touched him, than he sprang to his feet, and with every hair standin’ straight towards his head, came like a mad bull at me.  In strugglin’ up he overshot me; and as he made his drive one prong went through the calf of my leg.  I plunged my knife into his body, and the blood spirted all over me.  But it wasn’t no use.  He smashed down upon me again, and made that hole in my leg above the knee.  I handled my knife in a hurry, and made more than one hole in his skin, while he stuck a prong through my arm.  I hollered for Crop, who was watching the shanty as his duty was.  The old buck and I had it rough and tumble; sometimes one a-top, and sometimes the other, and both growin’ weak from loss of blood.  May be we didn’t kick and tussle about, and tear up the sand on the beach of the lake some! The buck was game to the backbone, and had no notion of givin’ in, and I had to fight for it, or die; so up and down, over and over, and all around, we went for a long time, until Crop made up his mind that my callin’ so earnestly meant something, and round the point he came.  When he saw what was goin’ on, you ought to’ve seen how he went in!  He didn’t stop to ask any questions, but as if possessed by all the furies of creation he lit upon that buck, and the fight was up.  He with his teeth, and I with my knife, settled the matter in less than a minute.  But, Judge, let me tell you, that buck was dangerous; and if Crop hadn’t been around, may be ther’d have been the bones of man and beast bleachin’ on the sandy beach of Mud Lake!  I bound up my wounds as well as I could—­but it was tough work backin’ my bark canoe over the carryin’ places on Bog River, and across the Ingen carryin’ place, and from the Upper Saranac to Bound Lake, with them holes in my leg and arm, and the other bruises I received.  When I got out to the settlements I was mighty glad to lay still for six weeks, and when I got around again I was a good deal leaner than I am now.

“My gun hangin’ fire made my bullet go wide of the spot I aimed at.  It had grazed his skull and stunned him for a little time, and crazed him into the bargain.  I learned more fully a fact that I’d an idea of before, by my fight with that deer, and it is this—­that it’s best to keep out of the way of a furious buck with tall, sharp horns on his head.  He’s a dangerous animal to handle.

“That’s one of the adventures that I went out into the wilderness arter, and found without lookin’ for it; and I’ve found a good many others that put me and Crop in a tight place more than once.  I backed him over all the carryin’ places between Little Tupper’s and the Saranacs once, when he was too lame and weak to walk, and nussed him for a month afterwards.  But that’s an adventer I’ll tell another time.  There’s a deal of excitement, as the Judge calls it, outside of the fences, if people will take the pains to look for it there.”