The Story of a Red Deer

  THE STORY OF A RED-DEER

  CHAPTER I

  Once upon a time there was a little Red-Deer Calf. You know what aRed-Deer is, for you of all boys have been brought up to know, thoughit may be that you have never seen a calf very close to you. A verypretty little fellow he was, downy-haired and white-spotted, though asyet his legs were rather long and his ears were rather large, for hewas still only a very few weeks old. But he did not think himself ababy by any means, for he was an early calf and had been born in thesecond week in May; and a birthday in the second week in May is thegreatest event that can occur in a Red-Deer's family.

  The first thing that he remembered was that he found himself lyingvery snug and warm in a patch of fern, with the most beautiful pair ofbrown eyes that ever were seen gazing straight down upon him. Andsoon he was aware that they were the eyes of the Hind his mother, thatthey followed him whereever he went, and watched over him whatever hedid, and that, whatever he might want, she was there to provide it forhim. She always had a cosy bed ready for him in grass or fern; shewashed him clean and brushed his little coat with her tongue everymorning; and she taught him but two lessons--to lie as still as amouse, and to do just as he was bid. For every morning before dawn shehad to go afield to feed herself, farther than the little Calf couldtravel with her; and as she had no nurse to leave in charge of him,she just tucked him up as closely as she could, and told him to liestill till she came back. And like a good little fellow he obeyed her;which was well for him, for if he had taken it into his head to jumpup and look about him, some evil man or beast might have seen him andmade away with him; and then this story would never have been written.

  Always just before the sun rose she came back, and every day sheseemed to love him better, and every day he felt that she was morethan the whole world to him. And morning after morning up rose theblessed sun, and drove the mist away, and sent a little ray forwardthrough the fern to kiss him and bid him good-morrow. And the mistleft a drop on every blade and blossom, and said, "Good-bye, my littlefellow; I shall come back again this evening;" and the drops noddedand sparkled and twinkled, and kept whispering, "Yes, coming back thisevening," over and over again, till the sun said that he could standit no longer and was obliged to dry them all up. Then rose a hum ofmany wings as the flies woke up, and went out for their day's work;but the breeze moved like a sentry over the bed of the little Calf andsaid to them, "Move on, move on; this little Calf must not bedisturbed;" and they dared not disobey, for they knew that, if theydid, he was certain sooner or later to send for his big brother, theWesterly Gale, who would blow them away with a vengeance. And allthrough the day the breeze kept singing through the graceful, yieldinggrass and the stubborn wiry heather; while mingled with it camesnatches of a little song from the brown peat-stream in the combebelow him. He could not make out much of it except these words, whichcame over and over again:

  _Mother and child come here, come here,_ _I am the friend of the Wild Red-Deer_

  For some time they moved but little distant from the place where hewas born, for his legs could not yet carry him very far; but as hegrew stronger they wandered farther, till at last one day he foundhimself on high ground, and saw the world that he was to live in, hisheritage of Exmoor. You know it, for you have seen it, fold upon foldof grass and heather, slashed by deep combes and merry babblingstreams, and bounded on the one hand by the blue sky and on the otherby the blue sea. It was all his own, for he was a wild Red-Deer. Andhe looked upon it with his great round eyes, and pricked his ears andtossed his little head; for the sun was shining warm above him, andthe soft west wind blew fresh and untainted over the sea and flewacross the moor, catching up all that was sweetest on its way fromgrass and gorse and heather, and bearing it straight to his nostrils.And he threw his little nose into the air and snuffed up the full,rich breeze; for no creature has a finer scent than a deer; and hefelt that this was life indeed.

  Then they went down, leaving the song of the wind ever fainter behindthem; and in its stead rose the song of the peat-stream bidding themcome down to it. So they went; and there it was trickling down asclear as crystal, though as yellow as amber. There was but littlewater in it that fine midsummer, but it hastened on none the less overthe stones in a desperate hurry, as are all Exmoor streams, to get tothe sea. And it whispered its song as it went, but so low that theyheard no words. They passed by a little shallow, and there the Calfsaw dozens of little fry, scurrying about from stone to stone; andjust below the shallow they came to a little brown, oily pool in abasin of rock. The Calf looked into it, and there he saw his ownlittle form, and behind it his mother's sweet eyes watching over him.And then for the first time he noticed that his own coat was spottedwhile his mother's was red. But while he was staring at the water afly suddenly came, and began to dance a reel over it to show what afine fellow he was, when all of a sudden a neat little body, all brownand gold and red spots, leaped up out of the water, seized the fly inhis mouth and fell back with a splash which broke the pretty pictureall to pieces.

  He shrank back, for he was rather startled, but his mother sooncomforted him. "It was only a little Trout, my dear," she said, "onlya greedy little Trout."

  "But he was such a pretty little fellow," he said, for he had quitegot over his fright; "I wish he would jump again."

  But the Hind looked grave. "We are never unkind to the Trout," shesaid, "for they belong to the peat-stream, but you must never becomefamiliar with them. Fallow-Deer, I believe, treat them as equals," andhere she looked very proud, "but we do not. They are a lazy lot offellows whose forefathers would not take the trouble to go down to thesea, whereby they might have grown into noble fish, with a coat asbright as the moon on the water. But they would not, and so they haveremained small and ugly, and they never lose their spots. You mustnever be rude to them, for that would be unworthy of a Red-Deer, butyou must never make great friends with them. You may talk to littleSalmon when we see them, for they lose their spots, but not to theTrout." For the Hind was a great lady, with much pride of race, whichthough it made her civil to every one, taught her to be shy of idlersand low company.

  "But, mother," said the poor little Calf, "_I've_ got a spotted coat."

  "But you will lose it, my darling," she said tenderly. "No, no, mychild will be a true Red-Deer."

  So they left the water, and presently stopped while his mother pluckedat a tuft of sweet grass among the heather; when to his astonishment alittle grey ball of fur came bounding out of a hole in the ground, andanother at his heels, and three more after them. And they ran roundand round and played like mad things. And presently another, farbigger than they, came up slowly out of another hole, sat up on herhind-legs, pricked her ears, and began to look about her. Thencatching sight of the Calf she crouched down, and began in a veryshrill voice: "Why, my dear tender heart" (for she was not only aRabbit, but a Devonshire Rabbit, and of course spoke broad Devon), "ifit isn't my little maister, and her ladyship too, begging your pardon,my lady. And sweetly pretty he is, my lady; and butiful you'm lookingtoo, in your summer coat, so glossy as a chestnut, sure enough. Anddear heart alive, how he groweth. Why, 'twas but a few days agone thatmy Bucky saith to me--I don't rightly remember how many days agone,but I mind 'twas the very day when the old Greyhen up to Badgworthycame to ask me if I had seen her poult--for she's lost a poult, mylady, hath the poor soul, as your ladyship knoweth. Well, my Buckysaith to me, 'Bunny,' saith he, 'you may depend that young maisterwill grow to be so fine a stag as ever was seen on Exmoor.'" Thenwithout pausing an instant she called out at the top of her voice toone of the little rabbits: "Flossy-a! Come back, little bittlehead,come back, or the fox will catch 'ee!"

  The Hind listened very graciously to this long speech, for she lovedto hear good words of her Calf, and she was just a _little_ pleased tohear of her own good looks. But she could not help looking beautiful,and she looked all the more so because she very seldom thought aboutit. So she returned the compliment by asking after Bunny and herfamily.

/>   "Oh! thank you, my lady," answered Bunny, "I reckon we'm well. Therehan't been no man this way this long time, thanks be; and there'splenty of meat, and not too much rain. And the family's well, my lady;look to mun playing all around, so gay; and my third family thisspring, my lady--that I should say so! No, I reckon I can't complain;but oh, my lady! they foxes, and they weasels! They do tell me thatthe old vixen from Cornham Brake hath five cubs; and I can't abide avixen--never could. And they weasels--they'm small, but they'm worsethan foxes. Now there's my Bucky. He can't bide home, he saith, thesefine days, but must go and lie out. I says to mun, 'Bucky,' I says,''tis very well for the likes of her ladyship to lie out every day,but _you_ should bide home to bury.' But no, he would go. 'Well then,Bucky,' I says, 'I reckon that you'll grow a pair of horns like hislordship, brow, bay, and trey, Bucky,' I says, 'and turn to bay whenthe weasel's after 'ee.' And with that he layeth back his ears andaway he goeth--Flossy-a, come back, will 'ee, or I'll give you whatvor! Now there's that Flossy, my lady, so like to her father as my twoears. She won't bide close to bury; and they do tell me that the vixento Cornham has moved this way. It won't do, my lady, it won't do. Ohdear, dear, dear!" And she stopped for want of breath.

  "Well, good evening, Bunny," said the Hind very kindly, "I must takemy little son home. I shall see you again very soon."

  "And good evening to your ladyship," answered Bunny, "and good eveningto you, my pretty dear. Ah! you'm his lordship's son sure enough. Imind the time----"

  But the Hind had moved on out of hearing, for when once an oldDoe-Rabbit begins to talk she never stops. Then presently the Calfsaid: "Mother, who is his lordship?" And she answered: "He is yourfather, my darling. For the Red-Deer are lords of this forest, and heis the lord of them all. And brow, bay, trey is the coronet that everygood Stag wears, and which you too shall wear in due time, when yougrow up." And he said no more, for to his mind there was nothing onearth half so beautiful as she was, and he asked no better than togrow up to be such another.