I was really surprised myself, for I had fired so hastily at the almost flying animal that it was little more than a random shot.

As the deer was not very heavy I dressed it and packed it home myself, about as proud a boy as the State of Michigan contained.

I really began to think I was a capital hunter, though I afterward knew it was a bit of good luck and not a bit of skill about it.
It was some time after this before I made another lucky shot.

Father would once in a while ask me:--"Well can't you kill us another deer ?" I told him that when I had crawled a long time toward a sleeping deer, that I got so trembly that I could not hit an ox in short range.

"O," said he, "You get the buck fever--don't be so timid--they won't attack you." But after awhile this fever wore off, and I got so steady that I could hit anything I could get in reach of.
We were now quite contented and happy.