One cold morning in winter, I went alone to a hillside to do some hunting. I sat there waiting for about an hour. Suddenly, a big beautiful deer appeared less than 20 feet away from me. There was no cover near him. Surely I could shoot him. To my surprise, he came toward me! He was curious, I suppose, or maybe he was stupid. For this was not a youngster, but a fully grown-up one. He must have known about men and their guns. But this deer came closer, and I still waited. His big eyes never moved away from my face. His wonderful head with a set of antlers   was clear in sight. I was getting a bit nervous as he walked closer. A big deer can do a lot of damage. Well, he walked right up to where I was sitting. Then he stopped and looked at me. What happened next was hard to believe. But it all seemed quite natural. I held out my hands and scratched his head right between the antlers. And he liked it. The big, wild, beautiful deer bent his head. I scratched and touched his head and body. His nose touched my shoulder. I fed him with my last sandwich. Well, he finally went his way, down the hill. Shoot him? Not me. You wouldn't, either. Not after that. I just watched him go, a strong deer carrying a proud head. I picked up my gun, and started walking back. Suddenly, I heard two shots, one after another. If you have hunted much, you will know what two shots mean. They mean a kill. I had forgotten that there were other hunters around. You will now understand why I gave up hunting from that day on. You can infer from the passage that   _  .
a grown-up deer usually will not get close to men with guns the writer was a little nervous at first as he had been attacked by a big deer before the writer felt afraid to kill the deer the moment the deer walked up to him the writer had waited for more than an hour before the deer appeared