Image from the Biodiversity Heritage Library.
Contributed by American Museum of Natural History Library.
| www.biodiversitylibrary.org
Transcription
the shot deafed my feet, ran a few
steps, and saw four graceful slender
legs violently waving in the air. The
bullet had caught them there the shoulder,
he was down for good.
my heart trembled with expectations
as I lifted this magnificent head and
feasted my eyes on the antlers; it was
the finest which I had ever killed and gazed
over his beautiful body as a miser handles
his gold, and greed was never more wonder-
ful than that brilliant yellow
red of his coat.
He was perfect as a specimen as I
could wish for the central figure of
the group I wished for the Museum. And
right there as he lay upon the hillside
amid a sort of vegetable garden
of blue bells, daisies and yellow
lilies, I had the setting plainly the
flowers brightened many mio-
groups before me. With the dark lines
of spruces on the ridge above, it
could be reproduced in detail and
bring thousands of people in the
other side of this world, at least a small
part of the pleasure it was giving
me then.
I always think when I have
killed an animal, what an advanta-
age the naturalist has over the