Now Lightfoot's friend who had driven the hunter off had seen him rowdown the river and he had guessed just what was in that hunter's mind."We'll fool him," said he, chuckling to himself, as he walked backtowards the shed where poor Lightfoot was resting.
He did not go too near Lightfoot, for he did not want to alarm him. Hejust kept within sight of Lightfoot, paying no attention to him butgoing about his work. You see, this man loved and understood the littlepeople of the Green Forest and the Green Meadows, and he knew that therewas no surer way of winning Lightfoot's confidence and trust than byappearing to take no notice of him. Lightfoot, watching him, understood.He knew that this man was a friend and would do him no harm. Little bylittle, the wonderful, blessed feeling of safety crept over Lightfoot.No hunter could harm him here.
CHAPTER XXVI
LIGHTFOOT DOES THE WISE THING
All the rest of that day the hunter with the terrible gun lay hidden inthe bushes of the pasture where he could watch for Lightfoot the Deer toleave the place of safety he had found. It required a lot of patience onthe part of the hunter, but the hunter had plenty of patience. Itsometimes seems as if hunters have more patience than any other people.
But this hunter waited in vain. Jolly, round, red Mr. Sun sank down inthe west to his bed behind the Purple Hills. The Black Shadows creptout and grew blacker. One by one the stars began to twinkle. Still thehunter waited, and still there was no sign of Lightfoot. At last itbecame so dark that it was useless for the hunter to remain longer.Disappointed and once more becoming angry, he tramped back to the BigRiver, climbed into his boat and rowed across to the other side. Then hetramped home and his thoughts were very bitter. He knew that he couldhave shot Lightfoot had it not been for the man who had protected theDeer. He even began to suspect that this man had himself killedLightfoot, for he had been sure that as soon as he had become restedLightfoot would start for the woods, and Lightfoot had done nothing ofthe kind. In fact, the hunter had not had so much as another glimpse ofLightfoot.
The reason that the hunter had been so disappointed was that Lightfootwas smart. He was smart enough to understand that the man who was savinghim from the hunter had done it because he was a true friend. All theafternoon Lightfoot had rested on a bed of soft hay in an open shed andhad watched this man going about his work and taking the utmost care todo nothing to frighten Lightfoot.
"He not only will let no one else harm me, but he himself will not harmme," thought Lightfoot. "As long as he is near, I am safe. I'll stayright around here until the hunting season is over, then I'll swim backacross the Big River to my home in the dear Green Forest."
So all afternoon Lightfoot rested and did not so much as put his noseoutside that open shed. That is why the hunter got no glimpse of him.When it became dark, so dark that he knew there was no longer danger,Lightfoot got up and stepped out under the stars. He was feeling quitehimself again. His splendid strength had returned. He bounded lightlyacross the meadow and up into the brushy pasture where the hunter hadbeen hidden. There and in the woods back of the pasture he browsed, butat the first hint of the coming of another day, Lightfoot turned back,and when his friend, the farmer, came out early in the morning to milkthe cows, there was Lightfoot back in the open shed. The farmer smiled."You are as wise as you are handsome, old fellow," said he.
CHAPTER XXVII
SAMMY JAY WORRIES
It isn't often Sammy Jay worries about anybody but himself. Truth totell, he doesn't worry about himself very often. You see, Sammy issmart, and he knows he is smart. Under that pointed cap of his are someof the cleverest wits in all the Green Forest. Sammy seldom worriesabout himself because he feels quite able to take care of himself.
But Sammy Jay was worrying now. He was worrying about Lightfoot theDeer. Yes, Sir, Sammy Jay was worrying about Lightfoot the Deer. Fortwo days he had been unable to find Lightfoot or any trace of Lightfoot.But he did find plenty of hunters with terrible guns. It seemed to himthat they were everywhere in the Green Forest. Sammy began to suspectthat one of them must have succeeded in killing Lightfoot the Deer.
Sammy knew all of Lightfoot's hiding-places. He visited every one ofthem. Lightfoot wasn't to be found, and no one whom Sammy met had seenLightfoot for two days.
Sammy felt badly. You see, he was very fond of Lightfoot. You rememberit was Sammy who warned Lightfoot of the coming of the hunter on themorning when the dreadful hunting season began. Ever since the huntingseason had opened, Sammy had done his best to make trouble for thehunters. Whenever he had found one of them he had screamed at the top ofhis voice to warn every one within hearing just where that hunter was.Once a hunter had lost his temper and shot at Sammy, but Sammy hadsuspected that something of the kind might happen, and he had taken careto keep just out of reach.
Sammy had known all about the chasing of Lightfoot by the hounds.Everybody in the Green Forest had known about it. You see, everybody hadheard the voices of those hounds. Once, Lightfoot had passed rightunder the tree in which Sammy was sitting, and a few moments later thetwo hounds had passed with their noses to the ground as they followedLightfoot's trail. That was the last Sammy had seen of Lightfoot. He hadbeen able to save Lightfoot from the hunters, but he couldn't save himfrom the hounds.
The more Sammy thought things over, the more he worried. "I am afraidthose hounds drove him out where a hunter could get a shot and kill him,or else that they tired him out and killed him themselves," thoughtSammy. "If he were alive, somebody certainly would have seen him andnobody has, since the day those hounds chased him. I declare, I havequite lost my appetite worrying about him. If Lightfoot is dead, and Iam almost sure he is, the Green Forest will never seem the same."
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE HUNTING SEASON ENDS
The very worst things come to an end at last. No matter how bad a thingis, it cannot last forever. So it was with the hunting season forLightfoot the Deer. There came a day when the law protected all Deer,--aday when the hunters could no longer go searching for Lightfoot.
Usually there was great rejoicing among the little people of the GreenForest and the Green Meadows when the hunting season ended and they knewthat Lightfoot would be in no more danger until the next huntingseason. But this year there was no rejoicing. You see, no one could findLightfoot. The last seen of him was when he was running for his lifewith two hounds baying on his trail and the Green Forest filled withhunters watching for a chance to shoot him.
Sammy Jay had hunted everywhere through the Green Forest. Blacky theCrow, whose eyes are quite as sharp as those of Sammy Jay, had joined inthe search. They had found no trace of Lightfoot. Paddy the Beaver saidthat for three days Lightfoot had not visited his pond for a drink.Billy Mink, who travels up and down the Laughing Brook, had lookedfor Lightfoot's footprints in the soft earth along the banks and hadfound only old ones. Jumper the Hare had visited Lightfoot's favoriteeating places at night, but Lightfoot had not been in any of them.
"I tell you what it is," said Sammy Jay to Bobby Coon,"something has happened to Lightfoot."]
"I tell you what it is," said Sammy Jay to Bobby Coon, "something hashappened to Lightfoot. Either those hounds caught him and killed him, orhe was shot by one of those hunters. The Green Forest will never be thesame without him. I don't think I shall want to come over here verymuch. There isn't one of all the other people who live in the GreenForest who would be missed as Lightfoot will be."
Bobby Coon nodded. "That's true, Sammy," said he. "Without Lightfoot,the Green Forest will never be the same. He never harmed anybody. Whythose hunters should have been so anxious to kill one so beautiful issomething I can't understand. For that matter, I don't understand whythey want to kill any of us. If they really needed us for food, it wouldbe a different matter, but they don't. Have you been up in the OldPasture and asked Old Man Coyote if he has seen anything of Lightfoot?"
Sammy nodded. "I've been up there twice," said he. "Old Man Coyote hasbeen lying very low during the days, but nights he has done a lot oftrav
eling. You know Old Man Coyote has a mighty good nose, but not oncesince the day those hounds chased Lightfoot has he found so much as atiny whiff of Lightfoot's scent. I thought he might have found the placewhere Lightfoot was killed, but he hasn't, although he has looked forit. Well, the hunting season for Lightfoot is over, but I am afraid ithas ended too late."
CHAPTER XXIX
Mr. AND MRS. QUACK ARE STARTLED
It was the evening of the day after the closing of the hunting seasonfor Lightfoot the Deer. Jolly, round, red Mr. Sun had gone to bed behindthe Purple Hills, and the Black Shadows had crept out across the BigRiver. Mr. and Mrs. Quack were getting their evening meal among thebrown stalks of the wild rice along the edge of the Big River. They tookturns in searching for the rice grains in the mud. While Mrs. Quacktipped up and seemed to stand on her head as she searched in the mudfor rice, Mr. Quack kept watch for possible danger. Then Mrs. Quack tookher turn at keeping watch, while Mr. Quack stood on his head and huntedfor rice.
It was wonderfully quiet and peaceful. There was not even a ripple onthe Big River. It was so quiet that they could hear the barking of a dogat a farmhouse a mile away. They were far enough out from the bank tohave nothing to fear from Reddy Fox or Old Man Coyote. So they hadnothing to fear from any one save Hooty the Owl. It was for Hooty thatthey took turns in watching. It was just the hour when Hooty likes bestto hunt.
By and by they heard Hooty's hunting call. It was far away in the GreenForest. Then Mr. and Mrs. Quack felt easier, and they talked in low,contented voices. They felt that for a while at least there was nothingto fear.
Suddenly a little splash out in the Big River caught Mr. Quack's quickear. As Mrs. Quack brought her head up out of the water, Mr. Quackwarned her to keep quiet. Noiselessly they swam among the brown stalksuntil they could see out across the Big River. There was another littlesplash out there in the middle. It wasn't the splash made by a fish; itwas a splash made by something much bigger than any fish. Presentlythey made out a silver line moving towards them from the Black Shadows.They knew exactly what it meant. It meant that some one was out there inthe Big River moving towards them. Could it be a boat containing ahunter?
With their necks stretched high, Mr. and Mrs. Quack watched. They wereready to take to their strong wings the instant they discovered danger.But they did not want to fly until they were sure that it _was_ dangerapproaching. They were startled, very much startled.
Presently they made out what looked like the branch of a tree movingover the water towards them. That was queer, very queer. Mr. Quack saidso. Mrs. Quack said so. Both were growing more and more suspicious. Theycouldn't understand it at all, and it is always best to be suspicious ofthings you cannot understand. Mr. and Mrs. Quack half lifted their wingsto fly.
CHAPTER XXX
THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED
It was very mysterious. Yes, Sir, it was very mysterious. Mr. Quackthought so. Mrs. Quack thought so. There, out in the Big River, in themidst of the Black Shadows, was something which looked like the branchof a tree. But instead of moving down the river, as the branch of a treewould if it were floating, this was coming straight across the river asif it were swimming. But how could the branch of a tree swim? That wastoo much for Mr. Quack. It was too much for Mrs. Quack.
So they sat perfectly still among the brown stalks of the wild ricealong the edge of the Big River, and not for a second did they taketheir eyes from that strange thing moving towards them. They were readyto spring into the air and trust to their swift wings the instant theyshould detect danger. But they did not want to fly unless they had to.Besides, they were curious. They were very curious indeed. They wantedto find out what that mysterious thing moving through the water towardsthem was.
So Mr. and Mrs. Quack watched that thing that looked like a swimmingbranch draw nearer and nearer, and the nearer it drew the more theywere puzzled, and the more curious they felt. If it had been the pond ofPaddy the Beaver instead of the Big River, they would have thought itwas Paddy swimming with a branch for his winter food pile. But Paddy theBeaver was way back in his own pond, deep in the Green Forest, and theyknew it. So this thing became more and more of a mystery. The nearer itcame, the more nervous and anxious they grew, and at the same time thegreater became their curiosity.
At last Mr. Quack felt that not even to gratify his curiosity would itbe safe to wait longer. He prepared to spring into the air, knowing thatMrs. Quack would follow him. It was just then that a funny little soundreached him. It was half snort, half cough, as if some one had sniffedsome water up his nose. There was something familiar about that sound.Mr. Quack decided to wait a few minutes longer.
"I'll wait," thought Mr. Quack, "until that thing, whatever it is, comesout of those Black Shadows into the moonlight. Somehow I have a feelingthat we are in no danger."
So Mr. and Mrs. Quack waited and watched. In a few minutes the thingthat looked like the branch of a tree came out of the Black Shadows intothe moonlight, and then the mystery was solved. It was a mystery nolonger. They saw that they had mistaken the antlers of Lightfoot theDeer for the branch of a tree. Lightfoot was swimming across the BigRiver on his way back to his home in the Green Forest. At once Mr. andMrs. Quack swam out to meet him and to tell him how glad they were thathe was alive and safe.
CHAPTER XXXI
A SURPRISING DISCOVERY
Probably there was no happier Thanksgiving in all the Great World thanthe Thanksgiving of Lightfoot the Deer, when the dreadful hunting seasonended and he was once more back in his beloved Green Forest with nothingto fear. All his neighbors called on him to tell him how glad they werethat he had escaped and how the Green Forest would not have been thesame if he had not returned. So Lightfoot roamed about without fear andwas happy. It seemed to him that he could not be happier. There wasplenty to eat and that blessed feeling of nothing to fear. What morecould any one ask? He began to grow sleek and fat and handsomer thanever. The days were growing colder and the frosty air made him feelgood.
Just at dusk one evening he went down to his favorite drinking place atthe Laughing Brook. As he put down his head to drink he saw somethingwhich so surprised him that he quite forgot he was thirsty. What do youthink it was he saw? It was a footprint in the soft mud. Yes, Sir, itwas a footprint.
For a long time Lightfoot stood staring at that footprint. In hisgreat, soft eyes was a look of wonder and surprise. You see, thatfootprint was exactly like one of his own, only smaller. To Lightfoot itwas a very wonderful footprint. He was quite sure that never had he seensuch a dainty footprint. He forgot to drink. Instead, he began to searchfor other footprints, and presently he found them. Each was as dainty asthat first one.
Who could have made them? That is what Lightfoot wanted to know and whathe meant to find out. It was clear to him that there was a stranger inthe Green Forest, and somehow he didn't resent it in the least. Infact, he was glad. He couldn't have told why, but it was true.
Lightfoot put his nose to the footprints and sniffed of them. Even hadhe not known by looking at those prints that they had been made by astranger, his nose would have told him this. A great longing to find themaker of those footprints took possession of him. He lifted his handsomehead and listened for some slight sound which might show that thestranger was near. With his delicate nostrils he tested the wanderinglittle Night Breezes for a stray whiff of scent to tell him which way togo. But there was no sound and the wandering little Night Breezes toldhim nothing. Lightfoot followed the dainty footprints up the bank.There they disappeared, for the ground was hard. Lightfoot paused,undecided which way to go.
CHAPTER XXXII
LIGHTFOOT SEES THE STRANGER
Lightfoot the Deer was unhappy. It was a strange unhappiness, anunhappiness such as he had never known before. You see, he haddiscovered that there was a stranger in the Green Forest, a stranger ofhis own kind, another Deer. He knew it by dainty footprints in the mudalong the Laughing Brook and on the edge of the pond of Paddy theBeaver. He knew it by other signs which he ran a
cross every now andthen. But search as he would, he was unable to find that newcomer. Hehad searched everywhere but always he was just too late. The strangerhad been and gone.
Now there was no anger in Lightfoot's desire to find that stranger.Instead, there was a great longing. For the first time in his lifeLightfoot felt lonely. So he hunted and hunted and was unhappy. He losthis appetite. He slept little. He roamed about uneasily, looking,listening, testing every Merry Little Breeze, but all in vain.
Then, one never-to-be-forgotten night, as he drank at the LaughingBrook, a strange feeling swept over him. It was the feeling of beingwatched. Lightfoot lifted his beautiful head and a slight movementcaught his quick eye and drew it to a thicket not far away. The silverylight of gentle Mistress Moon fell full on that thicket, and thrust outfrom it was the most beautiful head in all the Great World. At least,that is the way it seemed to Lightfoot, though to tell the truth it wasnot as beautiful as his own, for it was uncrowned by antlers. For a longminute Lightfoot stood gazing. A pair of wonderful, great, soft eyesgazed back at him. Then that beautiful head disappeared.