This is the deer that contributed so much to the pioneers in their westward trek from the Atlantic States. It was important not only for its flesh but for its hide, which after tanning became the buckskin moccasins, breeches, and coats commonly worn by outdoorsmen in early days. Its distribution is now spotty compared with the former range, although there are today probably more white-tailed deer in the United States than in colonial times. This is mainly because in the thickly settled Eastern States predators have been reduced to a minimum and hunting seasons carefully regulated. It is too early yet to know if predator elimination will result in an inferior strain of deer, but the relative overpopulation in many localities has been indicated by lack of browse, disease, and excessive winter kill. The latter especially has been a problem in some of the Northern States. “Whitetails” are gregarious creatures, banding together in considerable numbers at times, especially during winter. A band of them in deep snow will stay together and their hooves will soon tramp down the snow over a small area. As succeeding snows fall, the drifts become deeper around the “deer yards” and eventually the occupants become as imprisoned by this white barrier as though they were fenced. If the number of animals in the yard is too great, available browse soon disappears and many will starve to death before warm weather returns. Over most of the mountainous area occupied by white-tailed deer in the Southwest snow is no problem. The herds merely move down to lower country when the snow gets too deep. This seasonal movement is so pronounced that this deer is classed as a migratory animal in some localities. In line with this migratory tendency the “whitetail” follows a varied but well-marked routine in its life pattern. About the time of shedding the winter coat late in the spring, the bucks also cast their antlers. With the loss of these beautiful weapons their personalities suffer. They leave the group with which they have spent the winter and ascend to the higher mountains, there to consort with a few similarly afflicted individuals until a new growth of antlers restores their dignity. The does, left behind, have problems of their own. These include driving the yearling fawns away to fend for themselves in order that the does may give undivided attention to the tiny, spotted newcomers that arrive in midsummer. By this time the adults have put on the short, yellowish-red summer coat. The fawns are reddish too, but covered with pale spots, a combination that blends well with lights and shadows in the brushy places where the does choose to hide them. As soon as the fawns are large enough to follow their mothers the little family groups begin a gradual trek up the mountainside. There are several reasons for this exodus, chief of which are cooler temperatures, better browse, and fewer stinging insects.