“His hair is what buoys him up. He’d sink like a stone, in the summer or early fall.”
“Where are the most deer killed?”
“On the river. Sometimes they steer straight for the water. If the day is hot, they’re sure to get there in a short time. On cool days, they’ll sometimes race the hounds from morning till night; and then, as a last hope, with the pack on their heels, they’ll break for the river.
“Do the hounds follow by the ground scent?”
“No. The best hounds leap along snuffing at the bushes that the deer has brushed against.”
“When, where, and on what do they feed?”
“Here, I know, where the deer have become timid on account of so much driving, they doze in the day-time, and feed at night. The heavy woods along the upper streams afford excellent coverts for their day dreams. In summer picking is plenty; in winter they brouse on the scanty grass, the diminished mast, and the green but poisonous ivy.”
“Poisonous ivy?”
“Yes. It is singular, but it has no effect on them. It will kill everything else. Why, one buck, killed here several winters since, had been living on ivy, and every dog that fed on his entrails was taken with the blind staggers and nearly died.”
“What’s a slink?”