said, “Did you hear the deer whistle on the other side of the lake when you fired?” I said no. Burr said they whistled and he was going over to see if we couldn’t get a shot. I referred to my promise to Hoyt, which Burr answered with an oath of disapproval. As I saw no reason for getting another deer I was disgusted with the new movement, and neglected to re-load the empty barrel. When we reached the other side, we could hear deer moving in the water among the tall grass, but we could not see them. After a time I became interested in the undertaking, and I raised myself upon my feet for the purpose of looking over the tall grass. At once I was seen by a deer, and he made for the shore without delay. In the excitement of the moment I dis- charged my remaining barrel. The deer stopped suddenly, raised his tail, and whistled. I thought that I had shot him, and that he would soon fall into the water. I said to Burr, “How am I to get that deer?” Burr said, “I don’t know: you haven’t hit him yet.” The deer stood for a minute within good range and fully exposed. Luckily I had only an empty gun, or otherwise I might have killed a deer for which we had no use—for which there could have been no excuse. The whistle of the animal was a note of exultation and a notice that he was unharmed. Had he been wounded he would have run without waiting to explain his condition. This was the only success in deer hunting by any of the party. Hoyt went out several times, to return a disappointed man.
I spent the larger part of a night upon Louis Lake with a Canadian Frenchman, of whom the rumor was, as I learned afterwards, that he was a refugee charged with the murder of a woman. While one might not choose such a person for a guide upon a forest lake and in the night time, yet criminals of that sort are very often safer companions than many reckless persons not yet guilty of any great crime. Murders committed under the influence of passion do not lead to other
