As a matter of fact he pays no attention to the main features.He has trained his eye, not so much to see things, as to leave things out.The odd-shaped rock, the charred stub, the bright flowering bush do not exist for him.His eye passes over them as unseeing as yours over the patch of brown or gray that represents his quarry.His attention stops on the unusual, just as does yours; only in his case the unusual is not the obvious.He has succeeded by long training in eliminating that.Therefore he sees deer where you do not.As soon as you can forget the naturally obvious and construct an artificially obvious, then you too will see deer.
These animals are strangely invisible to the untrained eye even when they are standing "in plain sight." You can look straight at them, and not see them at all.Then some old woodsman lets you sight over his finger exactly to the spot.At once the figure of the deer fairly leaps into vision.I know of no more perfect example of the instantaneous than this.
You are filled with astonishment that you could for a moment have avoided seeing it.And yet next time you will in all probability repeat just this "puzzle picture" experience.
The Tenderfoot tried for six weeks before he caught sight of one.He wanted to very much.
Time and again one or the other of us would hiss back, "See the deer! over there by the yellow bush!"but before he could bring the deliberation of his scrutiny to the point of identification, the deer would be gone.Once a fawn jumped fairly within ten feet of the pack-horses and went bounding away through the bushes, and that fawn he could not help seeing.
We tried conscientiously enough to get him a shot;but the Tenderfoot was unable to move through the brush less majestically than a Pullman car, so we had ended by becoming apathetic on the subject.
Finally, while descending a very abrupt mountain-side I made out a buck lying down perhaps three hundred feet directly below us.The buck was not looking our way, so I had time to call the Tenderfoot.
He came.With difficulty and by using my rifle-barrel as a pointer I managed to show him the animal.Immediately he began to pant as though at the finish of a mile race, and his rifle, when he leveled it, covered a good half acre of ground.This would never do.
"Hold on!" I interrupted sharply.
He lowered his weapon to stare at me wild-eyed.
"What is it?" he gasped.
"Stop a minute!" I commanded."Now take three deep breaths."He did so.
"Now shoot," I advised, "and aim at his knees."The deer was now on his feet and facing us, so the Tenderfoot had the entire length of the animal to allow for lineal variation.He fired.The deer dropped.The Tenderfoot thrust his hat over one eye, rested hand on hip in a manner cocky to behold.
"Simply slaughter!" he proffered with lofty scorn.
We descended.The bullet had broken the deer's back--about six inches from the tail.The Tenderfoot had overshot by at least three feet.
