The Story of a Red Deer

  CHAPTER III

  One day they were lying out in the grass as usual, and our little Calfwas having a great game of romps with the little Hind. The Stag wasnot with them, but Aunt Yeld was standing sentry, when all of a suddenshe came back in a great fluster, not at all like a stag, as she wasalways trying to be.

  "Quick, quick, quick!" she said. "I can wind them and I can see them.Call your Calves and let us go. Quick, quick!"

  Then the two mothers rose up in a terrible fright. "Quick," said AuntYeld again. "Run away as fast as you can!"

  "But our Calves can't keep up if we go fast," pleaded the two mothers.

  "Bless the Calves, I never thought of that," said Aunt Yeld. "Wait aminute; look!"

  Then they looked down across the rolling waves of grass flecked by theshadows of the flying clouds, and a mile and a half away they saw amoving white mass, with a dark figure before it and another darkfigure behind it. The mass stood in deep shadow, for a cloud hung overit; but the cloud passed away and then the sun flashed down upon it,and what the Deer saw (for they have far better eyes than you or I)was this. Twenty-five couples of great solemn hounds trotting soberlyover the heather with a horseman in a white coat at their heads andanother at their sterns, and the coats of hounds and horses shining asglossy as their own. A fresh puff of wind bore a wave of strange scentto the nostrils of the Deer, and our little Calf snuffed it andthought it the most unpleasant that he had ever tasted. "Remember it,my son," whispered his mother to him, "nasty though it be, and bewareof it."

  But Aunt Yeld stood always a little in advance, talking to herself. "Ipassed just in front of the place where they are now on my way backfrom breakfast this morning," she murmured. "I trust that scent hasfailed by this time. Ah!"

  And as she spoke some of the hounds swung suddenly with one impulsetowards them, but the horseman behind them galloped forward quick asthought, and turned them back; and there came on the wind the soundof a shrill yelp, which made all three of the Hinds to quiver again.Then the mass began to move faster than before, and the Deer watchedit go further and further away from them till at last it settled downto its first pace and vanished out of sight.

  "Well, that is a mercy," said Aunt Yeld with a deep sigh. "I thoughtit was full early yet for those detestable creatures to begin theirhorrible work again. I think that we are safe now, but I'll just makesure in case of accidents."

  And with that she began to trot about in the strangest fashion. Forshe made a great circle to the track by which she had come back fromfeeding in the early morning, and ran back along it for some way, andthen she turned off it, and after a time made another circle whichbrought her to a little stream. Then she ran up the water and madeanother circle which brought her back again.

  "There," she said, "if they do follow us, that will puzzle them." Butthe Lady Tawny had been looking at her Calf all the time, and now shespoke: "I am afraid to stay here any longer, Aunt Yeld. I will take myCalf far away to a quiet spot that I know of, and do you stop withsister and look after her."

  So they parted, and very sad they were at parting. She led her Calfaway slowly, that he might not tire, but they had not gone very farwhen there ran past them a great Buck-Rabbit. He neither saw nor heardthem, for his eyes were starting out of his head with fright; and hewent on only for a little way and then lay down and squealed mostmiserably. Then they heard a faint sound rather like the yelp thatthey had heard from the hound, but much smaller; and presently therecame five little bits of brown bodies, long, and lithe and slender,racing along on their tiny short legs far faster than you would havethought possible. They were following the line of the Rabbit, and theold mother Weasel led the way, speaking to the scent as loud as shecould (and that was not very loud), "Forward, children, forward,forward," and the four little Weasels joined in chorus, "Forward,forward, forward"; then she cried, "Blood, children, blood," and theyanswered at the top of their pipes, "Blood, blood, blood, blood." Andtheir fierce little eyes flashed, and their sharp little teeth gleamedas they dashed away through the grass; and I am afraid that theBuck-Rabbit had but a poor chance with them, though he was nearly asbig as the whole five of them put together. For I suppose that, forits size, there is no creature on earth so fierce and bloodthirsty asa weasel; but remember, too, that he is also the pluckiest littlebeast that there is, and would fight you and me if we drove him toofar.

  The Calf was very much puzzled. "Why doesn't the Rabbit run on,mother, if he is afraid of the Weasels?" he said. "I should have runon as far as I could. Will they leave him alone because he lies downand squeals?"

  But she answered sadly, "No, no! and, my son, if ever it should befallyou that you must run for your life, as I fear may be only too likely,then keep up a brave heart and run on till you can run no more."

  And he answered, "Yes, mother," and thought to himself that he wouldfight to the end too; for he hoped one day to grow into a good stagand have horns to fight with; and besides he was a brave littlefellow. And, for my part, I think that the Calf was right; and if (asI hope may never be) after you are grown up, disappointment should liein wait for you at every turn, and fate and your own fault should huntyou to despair, then run on bravely, and when you can run no more,face them and dare them to do their worst; but never, never, neverlie down and squeal.

  So they journeyed on for three whole days, often stopping that theCalf might rest. And on the third day as they were passing along oneside of a combe, they saw another strange sight. For on the other sidethe rock came through the soil, and there at the foot of the rockstood a ruddy-coloured creature with a white throat, and prick ears,and a sharp nose, and a bushy tail that tapered to a point and endedin a white tag. She carried a rabbit in her mouth, and round her stoodfive little Cubs, jumping and scrambling and playing, and crying out,"Rabbit for dinner, rabbit for dinner!" For a time she looked at themwith the rabbit still in her mouth while they danced around her, tillpresently one ran up behind one of his brothers and rolled him over,and the other lay on his back kicking and struggling while the firstpretended to kill him; and then a third came up and caught one of themby the scruff of the neck and made him open his mouth so wide that youwould have thought he could never have shut it again. And then the oldVixen laid the rabbit on the ground, and said, "Worry, worry, worry!"and the Cubs dashed at it and began biting at it and tearing, andpulling, and scratching, till they rent it all to pieces. Then onelittle fellow got hold of a whole hind-leg and ran away to eat it byhimself, and the rest cried out, "Greedy, greedy!" and ran after himto take it from him; and they scuffled and worried and snarled tillyou would have thought that they meant to eat each other up as well asthe rabbit. But it was only play, though rough play, for Foxes arerough fellows; and all the time the old Vixen sat on her haunchessmiling and saying, "That's my little Cubs! that's my little Cubs!"

  Then the Hind and Calf passed on, and she led him into a great deepwood of oak-coppice, where there was hardly a tree that was not oak,except now and again a mountain-ash. And they passed through thebright silver stems of the young trees and under the heavy foliage ofthe old ones; till they saw a mountain-ash shake its golden berriesover their heads, and came to a hollow where a tiny stream cametrickling down, almost hidden among hart's-tongues. There she laid himdown; and this wood was their new home.

  Soon after, the dry weather came to an end, and the South-West windcame laden with rain from the sea. But the Hind and Calf lay shelteredin the wood, and heard the wind singing above them, and saw the scuddrifting slowly in great columns down the valley. They roamed farthrough the wood, for it seemed to cover the valley's side for miles,and he watched her as she looked about for ivy, which was herfavourite food, and envied her when she reared up to pluck sometempting morsel hanging from the oak trees. Nor would he let her haveall the good things to herself, for he would nuzzle at the greenleaves between her lips and pretend to enjoy them greatly.

  A very happy peaceful life it was, for they were never disturbed,though occasionally they saw company. They had not b
een there but veryfew days, when very early in the morning they saw the old Vixen comestealing into the wood with a Cub in her mouth. She looked so wearyand footsore, that though deer do not like rough, unmannerly creaturessuch as foxes, which feed on flesh, the Hind could not help saying,"Why, Mrs. Vicky, you look dreadfully tired."

  But the Vixen hardly turned her head, and then only to answer veryroughly, "No, I am not tired, I am not tired," though after a time sheadded "thank you" in rather a surly tone; for in Devon nobody isaltogether uncivil. And she went plodding on.

  "Have they been disturbing your earth?" asked the Hind. "I hope theCubs are all well." Then the Vixen could not help stopping to say:"Yes, they'm well. This is the last of mun. Twenty mile and more haveI gone back and 'vor with mun this blessed night. They was rather alate litter, you see, and I was obliged to carry mun. But I'm nottired, oh no, I am not tired--my lady." And she went on again doggedlywith her Cub, though they could see that she was so tired that shecould hardly move. And let me tell you that it was a great stretch ofcivility for the Vixen to call the Hind "my lady," for Foxes are veryindependent, and like a great many other people think that they mustshow their independence by being uncivil; whereby they only preventothers from seeing what brave, patient creatures they really are.

  The very next morning they saw a new visitor come in, a grey oldperson as big as the Vixen, with a long sharp nose, and a deal ofwhite about his face, a very little short tail, and four short clumsylegs. He was waddling along slowly, and grumbling to himself: "'Tisn'toften that I spake, but spake I will. 'Tis mortal hard that he shouldcome and take my house. 'Tis my house, I made mun, and I digged mun.'Tisn't right; 'tisn't rasonable."

  "What is it, old Grey?" said the Hind.

  The Badger looked up and stared. Then he said very slowly "Aw!"drawing out the word till he could collect his wits. "Well, look 'ee,'tis like this. Two days agone,--I think 'twas two days--the oldDog-Fox--you know mun, he that hath so much white to his brush--well,he cometh to me, and saith he, 'Brocky,' he saith--that's a name hecalleth me, Brocky, friendly like, though he warn't no friend o' minethat I know of--Well, he saith, 'Brocky, I know of so pretty a nest ofRabbits as a Badger could wish to see. I can't dig mun out,' he saith,'but you can. Oh! what I would give to be able to dig like you,Brocky!' he saith. 'Come 'long wi' me, and I'll show 'ee.' Well, nowI'll tell 'ee which way we went."

  "No, never mind that," said the Hind, "we musn't keep you, you know."

  "Aw!" said the Badger, "well, we come to the bury, and wonderful sweetthey rabbits did smell, sure enough. 'Now,' he saith, 'I'll leave'ee.' And I digged the rabbits out; I forget how many therewas--eight or nine I think--I ate mun all up, I know, and very sweetthey was, I won't deny that. And them I went 'oom, but bless yourlife, when I got there I couldn't go into mun. Oh! 'twas terrible sureenough; 'twas more than my poor nose could stand. And the old Fox helooketh out and saith, 'Tis wonderful kind of you, Brocky,' he saith,'to give me your house. Mrs. Vicky liketh it wonderful, she doth. Ah!I wish I could dig like you, Brocky,' he saith. And he's taken myhouse, and here I be. 'Tisn't right; 'tisn't rasonable."

  And he waddled away growling out, "'Tisn't rasonable," for, being aDevonshire Badger, he was of course fond of long words, though hemight not always understand their meaning. And the Calf could hardlyhelp laughing as he saw the poor, stupid old fellow blundering on hisway.

  But if he fared ill, the Vixen and her Cubs fared well enough. TheCubs grew so fast that they began to look after themselves, and theywere often to be seen wandering about the wood, grubbing after beetlesand gobbling up the fallen berries. And the Calf grew also, for he wasnow four months old, you must remember; and of all the months in hislife, those first four were, I suspect, the happiest.