Another reader asks what kind of a gun he shall take with him to hunt deer, as he is contemplating going on a deer hunting trip next fall. Now I would say any kind of a rifle that suits you. But if you should ask me what kind of a gun I use, I would not hesitate to say that I prefer the 38-40 and black powder. This gun shoots plenty strong to do all the shooting as to distance or penetrations that the deer hunter will require, and there is not near so much danger of shooting a man or domestic animal a mile away that the hunter knows nothing of, as is the case with a high power gun. Besides, from an economical point, the ammunition for the 38-40 black powder gun costs only about one-half that of the smokeless or high power guns. However, if the hunter thinks that he must have a high power gun in order to be a successful deer hunter, he will find the 30-30 or similar calibers good for large game, and it is not heavy to handle. CHAPTER XXVI. The Screech of the Panther. Some time ago, a writer to the H-T-T, whose name I have forgotten, gave his views in regard to this subject, and requested that the readers give their experiences and ideas on the matter. A year or so ago, I wrote to a sporting magazine (now defunct) giving my views on this horrible screech of the panther. I have camped in the wilds of California, Oregon, Idaho and Washington. Sixty years ago, in my childhood days, it was an everyday occurrence to hear some one tell of having a panther follow them through a certain piece of woods, and tell of the horrible screams that the panther gave while following them. And still to this day, there is, occasionally a person who reports of hearing that terrible screech of the panther here in old Potter, notwithstanding that there has not been a panther killed in the county for upwards of fifty years, though twice within fifty years, I have been frightened nearly out of my boots by that terrible screech. On one occasion I was watching a salt lick for deer; I was on a scaffold built up in a tree thirty or forty feet from the ground. The lick was in a dense hemlock forest. It was well along into the night--I was listening with all my energy, expecting to hear the tread of a deer, but, so far I had heard nothing but the rustle of the porcupine and the hop of the deer-mouse and the jump of the rabbit on the dry leaves. Still, I was listening intently for that tread of a deer which sounds different from that of any other animal, when, with the suddenness of a flash of lightning that terrible screech of the panther came within six feet of my head. Was I frightened? I guess yes. And had not my gun been tied to a limb of the tree to keep it in place it would have gone tumbling down the tree to the ground. Glancing up in the direction from whence that terrible scream came, I could plainly see the outline of a screech owl.