The animal swam straight to the island and landed there.  At my hiding-place I waited for it to appear on the opposite side of the island and swim across the bay.  When it got well out into the open water I could catch it with my boat.

But the deer seemed contented to remain on the island, for it did not again show itself.  It evidently thought it could thus baffle the nose of the pursuing hound, and escape the danger incurred by swimming across the bay.  I made up my mind that in order to capture the deer, I must in some way get into the narrow channel between the island and the main shore; but with the deer watching me from the island, this would be almost impossible.

Carefully I crept across the point to the spot where the skiff was moored.  My moccasins made no noise as I stepped into the boat.

With silent paddle I propelled the little craft around the extremity of the point, and again looked into the bay.

Another actor had appeared upon the scene.  At the spot where the game had entered the water stood the black hound, sniffing the air for some taint of the lost scent.

A breeze from the island and crouching deer must have been wafted to his keen nose, for I heard him give a whimper of satisfaction, and the next instant he leaped into the water.

A deerhound dreads going into the water, and the proceedings of the black dog therefore surprised me.

I let the boat float quietly.  It was hidden against the dark background of the point, and I decided to stay there until the hound should frighten the deer into swimming across the bay.  When I first saw the deer I thought it to be a large doe, but, as it was swimming to the island, I saw, with the aid of my glass, that it was a “spike-horn” buck.

These spike-horns are quite common, and do not seem to be a distinct species of the deer family.  They only differ as to their horns; instead of the branching antlers of the ordinary buck, they carry sharp spikes of horns from two to six inches long, varying with the age of the animal.

I watched the black hound swim directly to the island, and every moment I expected to see the deer dash into the water on the opposite side.  A deer is a much faster swimmer than a dog, and, when both are in the water, can easily escape.

When the dog reached the island he shook himself, sniffed the hot scent and then sprang forward, growling savagely.  The deer must have been taken completely by surprise.  I saw it jump from the bushes and turn to escape, but already the hound’s teeth were fastened in its flank.

Wheeling, the deer gored its pursuer, and the hound let go its hold.  For an instant the two faced each other.  Then the dog sprang at its opponent’s throat, but was met by the sharp spikes of the buck.  The spikes were much more effective weapons than broad antlers, and again the hound was tossed back.

Made more wary by experience, the dog again darted in, and this time caught the deer’s neck, but not before the spikes had entered its black sides.  The dog did not relax its hold, and the combatants seemed bound together.