Deer trails ran along the tops of the ridges on either side of Aunt Cathy's place. Louie's deer stand was 25 feet up in a large poplar along the trail, about 100 yards past the gas well. He had climbed up into his seat about an hour before daybreak, hoping to get a chance at that big buck he had seen in Aunt Cathy's yard a few weeks ago when he had come by to cover the windows. But it was now mid-morning and he had seen no sign of the buck, or of any other deer for that matter. He climbed down to the ground, stiff and cramped from sitting motionless for so long.   Thinking he'd better get a nap in if he was going to be in any shape to jam with the others after Cathy had fed them one of her fine meals tonight, he started hiking back down toward the mouth of the holler, where he had left his truck.