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was an exquisite marten； dark； almost black； with a great； broad；
shining breast of gold。
They were going back now toward the beaver lake。 The next trap
was sprung and empty； the next held the body of a red squirrel； a
nuisance always and good only to rebait the trap he springs。 But
the next held a marten； and the next a white weasel。 Others were
unsprung； but they had two good pelts when they reached the
beaver lake。 They were in high spirits with their good luck； but
not prepared for the marvellous haul that now was theirs。 Each
of the six traps held a big beaver； dead； drowned； and safe。
Each skin was worth five dollars； and the hunters felt rich。 The
incident had； moreover； this pleasing significance： It showed
that these beavers were unsophisticated； so had not been hunted。
Fifty pelts might easily be taken from these ponds。
The trappers reset the traps； then dividing the load； sought a
remote place to camp； for it does not do to light a fire near
your beaver pond。 One hundred and fifty pounds of beaver； in
addition； to their packs； was not a load to be taken miles away；
within half a mile on a lower level they selected a warm place；
made a fire； and skinned their catch。 The bodies they opened and
hung in a tree with a view to future use； but the pelts and tails
they carried on。
They made a long； hard tramp that day； baiting all the traps and
reached home late in the night。
Chapter 32。 The Antler…bound Bucks
IN THE man…world； November is the month of gloom； despair； and
many suicides。 In the wild world； November is the Mad Moon。 Many
and diverse the madnesses of the time； but none more insane than
the rut of the white…tailed deer。 Like some disease it appears；
first in the swollen necks of the antler…bearers； and then in the
feverish habits of all。 Long and obstinate combats between the
bucks now； characterize the time； neglecting even to eat； they
spend their days and nights in rushing about and seeking to kill。
Their horns； growing steadily since spring； are now of full size；
sharp； heavy； and cleaned of the velvet； in perfection。 For
what？ Has Nature made them to pierce； wound； and destroy？
Strange as it may seem； these weapons of offence are used for
little but defence； less as spears than as bucklers they serve
the deer in battles with its kind。 And the long； hard combats
are little more than wrestling and pushing bouts； almost never do
they end fatally。 When a mortal thrust is given； it is rarely a
gaping wound； but a sudden springing and locking of the antlers；
whereby the two deer are bound together； inextricably；
hopelessly； and so suffer death by starvation。 The records of
deer killed by their rivals and left on the duel…ground are few；
very few and far between。 The records of those killed by
interlocking are numbered by the scores。
There were hundreds of deer in this country that Rolf and Quonab
claimed。 Half of them were bucks； and at least half of these
engaged in combat some times or many times a day； all through
November； that is to say； probably a thousand duels were fought
that month within ten miles of the cabin。 It was not surprising
that Rolf should witness some of them； and hear many more in the
distance。
They were living in the cabin now； and during the still； frosty
nights； when he took a last look at the stars； before turning in；
Rolf formed the habit of listening intently for the voices of
the gloom。 Sometimes it was the 〃hoo…hoo〃 of the horned…owl；
once or twice it was the long； smooth howl of the wolf； but many
times it was the rattle of antlers that told of two bucks far up
in the hardwoods； trying out the all…important question； 〃Which
is the better buck？〃
One morning he heard still an occasional rattle at the same place
as the night before。 He set out alone； after breakfast； and
coming cautiously near； peered into a little； open space to see
two bucks with heads joined； slowly； feebly pushing this way and
that。 Their tongues were out； they seemed almost exhausted； and
the trampled snow for an acre about plainly showed that they had
been fighting for hours； that indeed these were the ones he had
heard in the night。 Still they were evenly matched； and the
green light in their eyes told of the ferocious spirit in each of
these gentle…looking deer。
Rolf had no difficulty in walking quite near。 If they saw him；
they gave slight heed to the testimony of their eyes； for the
unenergetic struggle went on until； again pausing for breath；
they separated； raised their heads a little； sniffed； then
trotted away from the dreaded enemy so near。 Fifty yards off；
they turned； shook their horns； seemed in doubt whether to run
away； join battle again； or attack the man。 Fortunately the
first was their choice； and Rolf returned to the cabin。
Quonab listened to his account； then said： 〃You might have been
killed。 Every buck is crazy now。 Often they attack man。 My
father's brother was killed by a Mad Moon buck。 They found only
his body； torn to rags。 He had got a little way up a tree； but
the buck had pinned him。 There were the marks； and in the snow
they could see how he held on to the deer's horns and was dragged
about till his strength gave out。 He had no gun。 The buck went
off。 That was all they knew。 I would rather trust a bear than a
deer。〃
The Indian's words were few； but they drew a picture all too
realistic。 The next time Rolf heard the far sound of a deer
fight； it brought back the horror of that hopeless fight in the
snow； and gave him a new and different feel… ing for the
antler…bearer of the changing mood。
It was two weeks after this； when he was coming in from a trip
alone on part of the line； when his ear caught some strange
sounds in the woods ahead； deep； sonorous； semi…human they were。
Strange and weird wood…notes in winter are nearly sure to be
those of a raven or a jay； if deep； they are likely to come from
a raven。
〃Quok； quok； ha； ha； ha…hreww； hrrr； hooop； hooop；〃 the diabolic
noises came； and Rolf； coming gently forward； caught a glimpse of
sable pinions swooping through the lower pines。
〃Ho； ho； ho yah … hew … w … w … w〃 came the demon laughter of the
death birds； and Rolf soon glimpsed a dozen of them in the
branches； hopping or sometimes flying to the ground。 One
alighted on a brown bump。 Then the bump began to move a little。
The raven was pecking away； but again the brown bump heaved and
the raven leaped to a near perch。 〃Wah wah wah … wo … hoo
yow … wow rrrrrr…rrrr…rrrr〃 and the other ravens joined
in。
Rolf had no weapons but his bow； his pocket knife； and a hatchet。
He took the latter in his hand and walked gently forward； the
hollow…voiced ravens 〃haw … hawed；〃 then flew to safe perches
where they chuckled like ghouls over some extra…ghoulish joke。
The lad； coming closer； witnessed a scene that stirred him with
mingled horror and pity。 A great； strong buck once strong； at
least was standing； staggering； kneeling there； sometimes on
his hind legs； spasmodically heaving and tugging at a long gray
form on the ground； the body of another buck； his rival； dead
now； with a broken neck； as it proved； but bearing big； strong
antlers with which the antlers of the living buck were
interlocked as though riveted with iron； bolted with clamps of
steel。 With all his strength； the living buck could barely move
his head； dragging his adversary's body with him。 The snow marks
showed that at first he had been able to haul the carcass many
yards； had nibbled a little at shoots and twigs； but that was
when he was stronger； was long before。 How long？ For days； at
least； perhaps a week； that wretched buck was dying hopelessly a
death that would not come。 His gaunt sides； his parched and
lolling tongue； less than a foot from the snow and yet beyond
reach； the filmy eye； whose opaque veil of death was illumined
again with a faint fire of fighting green as the new foe came。
The ravens had picked the eyes out of the dead buck and eaten a
hole in its back。 They had even begun on the living buck； but he
had been able to use one front foot to defend his eyes； still his
plight could scarce have been more dreadful。 It made the most
pitiful spectacle Rolf had ever seen in wild life； yes； in all
his life。 He was full of compassion for the poor brute。 He
forgot it as a thing to be hunted for food； thought of it only as
a harmless； beautiful creature in dire and horrible straits； a
fellow…being in distress； and he at once set about being its
helper。 With hatchet in hand he came gently in front； and
selecting an exposed part at the base of the dead buck's antler
he gave a sharp blow with the hatchet。 The effect on the living
buck was surprising。 He was roused to vigorous action that
showed him far from death as yet。 He plunged； then pulled
backward； carrying wit