CHAPTER XII.--THE VICTOR.
One evening when the frost lay glittering in the moonlight, the fawnswere suddenly awakened, in their soft beds of drifted leaves, by a loudbelling down on the lake shore; and wide-eyed, they tip-toed down to seewhat it meant.
There on the muddy beach--stamped with long lines of little cloven hoofprints--stood a handsome buck, with polished antlers, dancing about asif too full of energy to stand still.
Now the fawns had never seen their father, for he had been killed by ahunter. And the other bucks of the herd had been rambling about allsummer in the higher hills.
They now saw Fleet Foot mince daintily down to inspect the new-comer,who was belling his greeting at the top of his lungs.
But the meeting was brought to a sudden end. For out of the woodspranced another buck, belling a saucy challenge to a fight. Fleet Footwithdrew to a safe distance, as did the fawns, and watched admiringly asthe two bucks came together; and the excitement, no less than the keen,frosty air, set the blood to racing hot through their young veins.
Stamping their steel-shod hoofs defiantly and tossing their antleredheads in the pride of their strength, the two bucks bellowed theirbattle challenge.
"Well, where did you come from?" shrilled Fleet Foot's champion.
"Never mind that. I've come to stay," bellowed the new-comer. "If eitherof us has got to go, it will be yourself, because I'm the strongest."
"Not if I know myself!"
"Look out! The strongest wins!"
"Yes, the strongest wins. So look out for your own self!" and the firstbuck gave a shrill snort of defiance.
Straightway the pair began dancing a sort of war-dance around eachother. Slim and supple, they looked about equally fit.
Fleet Foot stepped gracefully a little nearer, and stood looking on,with her back to the fawns,--who thought best to keep their distance.They noticed that another little audience had gathered on the oppositeside of the lake,--a couple of yearling bucks with proud spikes of hornsand three with two-pronged antlers.
Around and around the two combatants tip-toed, heads flung back, chinsin air. Then they lowered their antlers like shields, and Fleet Foot'schampion got in a good dig at the other's ribs. With a bellow of rage,the second buck came plunging, and the two crashed together, antlersagainst antlers. Their sharp hoofs fairly ploughed the ground as theystrove and struggled and pushed each other about, the very whites oftheir eyes showing in their rage.
"There's ginger for you!" thought the fawns.
Now the fighting pair were shouldering each other about roughly withtheir horns, lips foaming, gasping for breath,--almost locking horns ina butting match. At last the first buck lifted his knife-edged forelegsand struck at the intruder. The next moment he was belling in triumph,for he had cut a great gash in the other's shoulder, and the latter hadhad enough.
The victor now turned for the look of admiration he felt he ought tofind in Fleet Foot's eyes. But instead, he barely caught a glimpse ofher dancing away through the thicket, with just one merry backwardglance to see if he would race her.
But he knew where to follow; for there was the faintest, loveliestperfume on the air where she had passed.
The fawns gazed after the pair, as they disappeared, then foundthemselves alone. All that month, while the woods turned from scarletand yellow to brown and gray, and the nights grew frosty under thestars, the fawns were left very much to their own devices. But they werewell capable of looking out for themselves at this time of year, forthey found a beech wood and began fattening on the beech nuts againstthe increasing chill.
Their coats were changing from tawny red to bluish gray, and their furthickening to keep a layer of warm air next their skins. There werecoarser hairs growing out as well, that helped to shed the rain. Theirnew fur glistened in the sunshine, and the fawns raced and hurdled inthe keen air, and took running high jumps to work off their surplusenergy.
Then Fleet Foot and the winning buck returned, and with them came two ofthe young bucks who had watched the battle. The six ranged happily fromcranberry bog to evergreen swamp, feasting, feasting, feasting onmosses, lichens, anything and everything that grew, till their sidesrounded with their winter plumpness, and a layer of warm fat lay justunderneath their skins.
But with the first powdering of snow came a new danger. The huntingseason had opened, and to the huntsman our little family meant merely afew pounds of venison for his table, and the pride of a pair of antlersto hang his gun upon.
To the buck, however, one little bullet might in an instant rob him oflife and the keen joy of his airy speed, and all the glad wonderfulworld about them, and leave his family defenseless through the long,hard winter.
He was therefore more than wary. With the first crash of the Hired Man'sthunder stick, he led his little herd to a distant cedar swamp, wherethey were soon joined by other groups as nervous as themselves at thisnew peril that could pick them out and wound them from so far away.
Sometimes, even then, a member of the band would have a race for hislife.--And sometimes he never came back! But Fleet Foot and her fivepulled through in safety.
Then the thunder-stick ceased to roar in the woods about Mount Olaf. The"season" was over, and the entire, band set about making activepreparations for the on-coming winter. Already there were chill, drizzlydays when all the world looked gray.
The former rivals now chewed their cuds together as peacefully as youplease, the bucks sleeping on one side of the thicket, the does andtheir fawns on the other.
Then came a big surprise for the fawns.
It was a surprise for the Red Fox Pup as well.
----