CHAPTER XIV--STARVATION TIME
Fleet Foot, the Doe, would never have dreamed of taking her fawns downto the hay-stack at the Valley Farm, had not the Farmer and his Boy sether leg the summer before, and gained her confidence by their kindness.
But, though the herd had selected a south-west slope where the feedingwas good, and though they had trampled the snow till it raised themhigher and higher, and they could browse on the limbs of the fir trees,it was proving a cruel winter. As blizzard followed blizzard, and barkand browse alike were frozen stiff, they huddled together, weak withhunger.
Then the thought of the big hay-mow provided for the sheep and cattleproved too much for Fleet Foot, and she resolved to take the fawns, (nowwell grown,) slip down under cover of the early winter dusk, and therehelp herself to the few mouthfuls she could reach through the bars. Forpart of the hay stood in the open meadow, with only a canvas over top tokeep it dry, and a few bars to keep it from being blown away.
The other deer of the herd, though they were starving, were far tootimid to make the venture with her. To them it seemed a perilousundertaking to go so near human-kind. For they had seen many things inthe woods. They had seen the Hired Man with his long black stick thatspoke like thunder, and killed more surely than tooth or claw. Theypreferred to starve!
For Fleet Foot, the dangers of traveling alone with the fawns throughthe winter woods were many. First there was the chance of meeting OldMan Lynx. For now they would not have the protection of the hoofs andhorns of the herd.
Then they might get lost and freeze, should another storm catch them farfrom the herd-yard. But, once having made up her mind, Fleet Footwhistled to the fawns and started off in a series of long, gracefulbounds that carried them over one snow-bank after another.
Had they dared delay, they would have sunk to their knees in the hard,dry snow to rest for a while and nibble the tops of some bush thatpromised a few mouthfuls of supper, for their empty stomachs fairlyhurt. And if it had been freezing in the herd-yard, with its wall ofsnow, and the crowding bodies that helped keep each other warm, imaginehow cold Fleet Foot's little family must have been, out on the openhill-top! The savage wind and the snow-filled air made it all butimpossible at times to draw breath.
But worst of all was the shadow of fear that never left the doe'sanxious mother heart. The tree-trunks crackled alarmingly with thefrost, keeping her alert for enemies, and the wind tore savagely throughthe brush. Of a sudden Fleet Foot's spine began to prickle! It was oneof those mysterious things that she had never been able to account for.But it usually meant danger!
Half blindly, they had been making their way, hardly able to see in thegreen-black of the darkness. But they marked their path by the darkerblackness of the clumps of spruce trees, which to their trained instinctpointed the way like a map.
Again a chill ran down their spine and the hair raised along the backsof their necks! Some instinct told them real danger was near--whatdanger, they could not know. Rolling their startled eyes behind them,they could see points of light gleaming at them through the darkness.
At length, through the winter night, came a long, shrill cry like thatof a hound, only wilder and more terrifying. Then came another, and athird. It was an uncanny sound, that of the three gray wolves, watchingfrom behind the snowy evergreens.
Fleet Foot knew, more by instinct than experience, what they were, fortheir like she had never seen before. Nor had any one in those woodsknown a winter when these ravenous beasts had come down out of theCanadian wilds. But it had been handed down from grand-sire to grand-sonthat once, when the snows were uncommonly deep, and half the wild folkstarved and frozen, wolves had come down from the far North in search ofprey.
There were three of the lean gray shapes, like collie dogs, yet so muchlarger and fiercer--large enough to attack even bigger game than FleetFoot, the doe.
Should worst come to worst, she would have no more chance with even onesuch foe than a rabbit with a hound. It would all be a matter of whichcould run the faster. And she had to look out for the fawns!
Their one chance of escape lay in their nimble heels. They might, for atime, outspeed their enemies, if their strength held out. The combinedhoofs and antlers of the herd might have fought off the beasts for atime, but the herd-yard was now too far away for Fleet Foot ever toreach it with the fawns before those lean gray shapes would be at theirthroats. The Valley Farm lay straight ahead, and her fear of man shrankto nothing beside the terrors behind her.
Yes, the one hope on the horizon lay at the Valley Farm, where the fearof man might keep the wolves from following.
And to the Farm Fleet Foot and the fawns now sped with their great,bounding strides that took whole drifts at a leap. Would their feet slipin the darkness, crippling them and leaving them helpless almost withinsight of safety?
On and on they ran, and behind them through the forest crept the threegray shapes, slinking along like shadows with glowing coals for eyes.Every now and again their barking howl, long drawn out and fearful, torethe darkness. Could they reach the Valley Farm, Fleet Foot asked herselfwith pounding heart?
It was hard going through the powdery snow, into which she sankdangerously every time she came to a drift too wide to leap. And thefawns were having an even harder time, the cold cutting into their lungs'till it hurt.
At last, straight ahead, gleamed the dim lighted windows of thefarmhouse. A few more bursts of speed would get them over the fence andinto the pasture lot, and perhaps the wolves would stop at the boundaryof man's domain. But--could they make it? Could they reach that fencebefore their grim pursuers?
Their eyes were fairly popping with the effort they were making. Herewas a mammoth drift that in summer had been a creek, and there a patchof the higher wind-swept ground where the ice might take their hoofsfrom under them.
Ah! The fence at last! One leap over its smooth pyramid, and with asobbing cough, Fleet Foot and the fawns were safe, with the wolves notten paces behind!
Then, suddenly, the door at the farmhouse opened, throwing a long streakof lamp-light across the snow!
The wolves slunk back in fear. But so, too, did Fleet Foot. The terrorof the great gray beasts behind her, all her old fear of man floodedback upon her, and what to do she did not know. She dared not go back,nor could she go forward. So she stood stock still, her fawns huddling,trembling against her sides. The sudden light half-blinded her, and madethe darkness blacker. What could be its meaning? Curiosity might, atanother time, have conquered fear, but now she was trembling in everyjoint, her spent lungs wheezing with the effort she had made. This wasfar different from slipping in under cover of darkness as she hadplanned.
"Father! Come quick! I do believe there is a deer out there--no, a doe,and two fawns!" cried the Boy of the Valley Farm, as the light from theopen door threw a long ray across the barn-yard to the pasture beyond.
"Wait! I'll get her for you!" exclaimed the Hired Man, springing for hisgun. But at the Boy's sharp command he dropped it, shame-faced.
Then from farther back in the evergreens came the spine-chilling howl ofthe gray wolves, baying their lost prey.
"Wolves, my son!" exclaimed the Farmer, joining the group in thedoorway. "Wolves from Canada. It's a hard winter that has brought themdown. I don't remember seeing wolves since I was a little shaver, fortyyears ago. And I expect that is what has driven the deer so close. Sh!Come out-side." The two closed the door behind them. "We mustn'tfrighten them away, or the wolves will get them, sure."
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