Books: Lightfoot the Deer
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Thornton W. Burgess >> Lightfoot the Deer
He had almost reached the edge of Paddy's pond when from the
farther shore there came a sudden crash. It startled Lightfoot
terribly for just an instant. Then he guessed what it meant.
That crash was the falling of a tree. There wasn't enough wind to
blow over even the most shaky dead tree. There had been no sound
of axes, so he knew it could not have been chopped down by men.
It must be that Paddy the Beaver had cut it, and if Paddy had been
working in daylight, it was certain that no one had been around
that pond for a long time.
So Lightfoot hurried forward eagerly, cautiously. When he reached
the bank he looked across towards where the sound of that falling
tree had come from; a branch of a tree was moving along in the
water and half hidden by it was a brown head. It was Paddy the
Beaver taking the branch to his food pile.
CHAPTER XIII: Lightfoot And Paddy Become Partners
The instant Lightfoot saw Paddy the Beaver he knew that for the
time being, at least, there was no danger. He knew that Paddy is
one of the shyest of all the little people of the Green Forest
and that when he is found working in the daytime it means that he
has been undisturbed for a long time; otherwise he would work
only at night.
Paddy saw Lightfoot almost as soon as he stepped out on the
bank. He kept right on swimming with the branch of a poplar-tree
until he reached his food pile, which, you know, is in the
water. There he forced the branch down until it was held by other
branches already sunken in the pond. This done, he swam over to
where Lightfoot was watching. "Hello, Lightfoot!" he exclaimed.
"You are looking handsomer than ever. How are you feeling
these fine autumn days?"
"Anxious," replied Lightfoot. "I am feeling terribly anxious.
Do you know what day this is?"
"No," replied Paddy, "I don't know what day it is, and I don't
particularly care. It is enough for me that it is one of the
finest days we've had for a long time."
"I wish I could feel that way," said Lightfoot wistfully. "I wish
I could feel that way, Paddy, but I can't. No, Sir, I can't.
You see, this is the first of the most dreadful days in all the year
for me. The hunters started looking for me before Mr. Sun was
really out of bed. At least one hunter did, and I don't doubt
there are others. I fooled that one, but from now to the end of
the hunting season there will not be a single moment of daylight
when I will feel absolutely safe."
Paddy crept out on the bank and chewed a little twig of poplar
thoughtfully. Paddy says he can always think better if he is
chewing something. "That's bad news, Lightfoot. I'm sorry to hear
it. I certainly am sorry to hear it," said Paddy. "Why anybody
wants to hunt such a handsome fellow as you are, I cannot
understand. My, but that's a beautiful set of antlers you have!"
"They are the best I've ever had; but do you know, Paddy, I
suspect that they may be one of the reasons I am hunted so,"
replied Lightfoot a little sadly." Good looks are not always to
be desired. Have you seen any hunters around here lately?"
Paddy shook his Lead. "Not a single hunter," he replied. "I tell
you what it is, Lightfoot, let's be partners for a while.
You stay right around my pond. If I see or hear or smell anything
suspicious, I'll warn you. You do the same for me. Two sets of
eyes, ears and noses are better than one. What do you say,
Lightfoot?"
"I'll do it," replied Lightfoot.
CHAPTER XIV: How Paddy Warned Lightfoot
It was a queer partnership, that partnership between Lightfoot
and Paddy, but it was a good partnership. They had been the best
of friends for a long time. Paddy had always been glad to have
Lightfoot visit his pond. To tell the truth, he was rather fond
of handsome Lightfoot. You know Paddy is himself not at all
handsome. On land he is a rather clumsy-looking fellow and
really homely. So he admired Lightfoot greatly. That is one
reason why he proposed that they be partners.
Lightfoot himself thought the idea a splendid one. He spent that
night browsing not far from Paddy's pond. With the coming of
daylight he lay down in a thicket of young hemlock-trees near the
upper end of the pond. It was a quiet, peaceful day. It was so
quiet and peaceful and beautiful it was hard to believe that
hunters with terrible guns were searching the Green Forest for
beautiful Lightfoot. But they were, and Lightfoot knew that
sooner or later one of them would be sure to visit Paddy's pond.
So, though he rested and took short naps all through that
beautiful day, he was anxious. He couldn't help but be.
The next morning found Lightfoot back in the same place. But this
morning he took no naps. He rested, but all the time he was
watchful and alert. A feeling of uneasiness possessed him.
He felt in his bones that danger in the shape of a hunter with a
terrible gun was not far distant.
But the hours slipped away, and little by little he grew less uneasy.
He began to hope that that day would prove as peaceful as the
previous day had been. Then suddenly there was a sharp report from
the farther end of Paddy's pond. It was almost like a pistol shot.
However, it wasn't a pistol shot. It wasn't a shot at all.
It was the slap of Paddy's broad tail on the surface of the water.
Instantly Lightfoot was on his feet. He knew just what that meant.
He knew that Paddy had seen or heard or smelled a hunter.
It was even so. Paddy had heard a dry stick snap. It was a very
tiny snap, but it was enough to warn Paddy. With only his head
above water he had watched in the direction from which that sound
had come. Presently, stealing quietly along towards the pond, a
hunter had come in view. Instantly Paddy had brought his broad
tail down on the water with all his force. He knew thatLightfoot
would know that that meant danger. Then Paddy had dived,
and swimming under water, had sought the safety of his house.
He had done his part, and there was nothing more he could do.
CHAPTER XV: The Three Watchers
When Paddy the Beaver slapped the water with his broad tail,
making a noise like a pistol shot, Lightfoot understood that this
was meant as a warning of danger. He was on his feet instantly,
with eyes, ears and nose seeking the cause of Paddy's warning.
After a moment or two he stole softly up to the top of a
little ridge some distance back from Paddy's pond, but from the
top of which he could see the whole of the pond. There he hid
among some close-growing young hemlock-trees. It wasn't long
before he saw a hunter with a terrible gun come down to the shore
of the pond.
Now the hunter had heard Paddy slap the water with his broad
tail. Of course. There would have been something very wrong with
his ears had he failed to hear it.
"Confound that Beaver!" muttered the hunter crossly. "If there
was a Deer anywhere around this pond, he probably is on his way now.
I'll have a look around and see if there are any signs."
So the hunter went on to the edge of Paddy's pond and then began
to walk around it, studying the ground as he walked. Presently he
found the footprints of Lightfoot in the mud where Lightfoot had
gone down to the pond to drink.
"I thought as much," muttered the hunter. "Those tracks were made
last night. That Deer probably was lying down somewhere near
here, and I might have had a shot but for that pesky Beaver.
I'll just look the land over, and then I think I'll wait here
awhile. If that Deer isn't too badly scared, he may come back."
So the hunter went quite around the pond, looking into all likely
hiding-places. He found where Lightfoot had been lying, and he
knew that in all probability Lightfoot had been there when Paddy
gave the danger signal.
"It's of no use for me to try to follow him," thought the
hunter. "It is too dry for me to track him. He may not be so
badly scared, after all. I'll just find a good place and wait."
So the hunter found an old log behind some small trees and there
sat down. He could see all around Paddy's pond. He sat
perfectly still. He was a clever hunter and he knew that so long
as he did not move he was not likely to be noticed by any sharp
eyes that might come that way. What he didn't know was that
Lightfoot had been watching him all the time and was even then
standing where he could see him. And another thing he didn't
know was that Paddy the Beaver had come out of his house and,
swimming under water, had reached a hiding-place on the opposite
shore from which he too had seen the hunter sit down on the log.
So the hunter watched for Lightfoot, and Lightfoot and Paddy
watched the hunter.
CHAPTER XVI: Visitors To Paddy's Pond
That hunter was a man of patience. Also he was a man who
understood the little people of the Green Forest and the Green
Meadows. He knew that if he would not be seen he must not move.
So he didn't move. He kept as motionless as if he were a part of
the very log on which he was sitting.
For some time there was no sign of any living thing. Then, from
over the tree tops in the direction of the Big River, came the
whistle of swift wings, and Mr. and Mrs. Quack alighted with a
splash in the pond. For a few moments they sat on the water, a
picture of watchful suspicion. They were looking and listening
to make sure that no danger was near. Satisfied at last, they
began to clean their feathers. It was plain that they felt safe.
Paddy the Beaver was tempted to warn them that they were not as
safe as they thought, but as long as the hunter did not move
Paddy decided to wait.
Now the hunter was sorely tempted to shoot these Ducks, but he
knew that if he did he would have no chance that day to get
Lightfoot the Deer, and it was Lightfoot he wanted. So Mr. and
Mrs. Quack swam about within easy range of that terrible gun
without once suspecting that danger was anywhere near.
By and by the hunter's keen eyes caught a movement at one end of
Paddy's dam. An instant later Bobby Coon appeared. It was clear
that Bobby was quite unsuspicious. He carried something, but just
what the hunter could not make out. He took it down to the edge
of the water and there carefully washed it. Then he climbed up on
Paddy's dam and began to eat. You know Bobby Coon is very
particular about his food. Whenever there is water near, Bobby
washes his food before eating. Once more the hunter was tempted,
but did not yield to the temptation, which was a very good thing
for Bobby Coon.
All this Lightfoot saw as he stood among the little hemlock-trees
at the top of the ridge behind the hunter. He saw and he
understood. "It is because he wants to kill me that he doesn't
shoot at Mr. and Mrs. Quack or Bobby Coon," thought Lightfoot a
little bitterly. "What have I ever done that he should be so
anxious to kill me?"
Still the hunter sat without moving. Mr. and Mrs. Quack
contentedly hunted for food in the mud at the bottom of Paddy's
pond. Bobby Coon finished his meal, crossed the dam and
disappeared in the Green Forest. He had gone off to take a nap
somewhere. Time slipped away. The hunter continued to watch
patiently for Lightfoot, and Lightfoot and Paddy the Beaver
watched the hunter. Finally, another visitor appeared at the
upper end of the pond -- a visitor in a wonderful coat of red.
It was Reddy Fox.
CHAPTER XVII: Sammy Jay Arrives
When Reddy Fox arrived at the pond of Paddy the Beaver, the
hunter who was hiding there saw him instantly. So did Lightfoot.
But no one else did. He approached in that cautious, careful way
that he always uses when he is hunting. The instant he reached
a place where he could see all over Paddy's pond, he stopped
as suddenly as if he had been turned to stone. He stopped
with one foot lifted in the act of taking a step. He had
seen Mr. and Mrs. Quack.
Now you know there is nothing Reddy Fox likes better for a dinner
than a Duck. The instant he saw Mr. and Mrs. Quack, a gleam of
longing crept into his eyes and his mouth began to water.
He stood motionless until both Mr. and Mrs. Quack had their heads
under water as they searched for food in the mud in the bottom of
the pond. Then like a red flash he bounded out of sight behind
the dam of Paddy the Beaver.
Presently the hunter saw Reddy's black nose at the end of the dam
as Reddy peeped around it to watch Mr. and Mrs. Quack. The latter
were slowly moving along in that direction as they fed. Reddy was
quick to see this. If he remained right where he was, and Mr. And
Mrs. Quack kept on feeding in that direction, the chances were
that he would have a dinner of fat Duck. All he need do was to be
patient and wait. So, with his eyes fixed fast on Mr. and
Mrs. Quack, Reddy Fox crouched behind Paddy's dam and waited.
Watching Reddy and the Ducks, the hunter almost forgot Lightfoot
the Deer. Mr. and Mrs. Quack were getting very near to where
Reddy was waiting for them. The hunter was tempted to get up and
frighten those Ducks. He didn't want Reddy Fox to have them,
because he hoped some day to get them himself.
" I suppose," thought he, "I was foolish not to shoot them when I
had the chance. They are too far away now, and it looks very much
as if that red rascal will get one of them. I believe I'll spoil
that red scamp's plans by frightening them away. I don't believe
that Deer will be back here to-day anyway, so I may as well save
those Ducks."
But the hunter did nothing of the kind. You see, just as he was
getting ready to step out from his hiding-place, Sammy Jay
arrived. He perched in a tree close to the end of Paddy's dam and
at once he spied Reddy Fox. It didn't take him a second to
discover what Reddy was hiding there for. "Thief, thief, thief!"
screamed Sammy, and then looked down at Reddy with a mischievous
look in his sharp eyes. There is nothing Sammy Jay delights in
more than in upsetting the plans of Reddy Fox. At the sound of
Sammy's voice, Mr. and Mrs. Quack swam hurriedly towards the
middle of the pond. They knew exactly what that warning
meant. Reddy Fox looked up at Sammy Jay and snarled angrily.
Then, knowing it was useless to hide longer, he bounded away
through the Green Forest to hunt elsewhere.
CHAPTER XVIII: The Hunter Loses His Temper
The hunter, hidden near the pond of Paddy the Beaver, chuckled
silently. That is to say, he laughed without making any
sound. The hunter thought the warning of Mr. and Mrs. Quack by
Sammy Jay was a great joke on Reddy. To tell the truth, he was
very much pleased. As you know, he wanted those Ducks himself.
He suspected that they would stay in that little pond for some days,
and he planned to return there and shoot them after he had got
Lightfoot the Deer. He wanted to get Lightfoot first, and he knew
that to shoot at anything else might spoil his chance of getting
a shot at Lightfoot.
"Sammy Jay did me a good turn," thought the hunter, "although he
doesn't know it. Reddy Fox certainly would have caught one of
those Ducks had Sammy not come along just when he did. It would
have been a shame to have had one of them caught by that Fox.
I mean to get one, and I hope both of them, myself."
Now when you come to think of it, it would have been a far
greater shame for the hunter to have killed Mr. and Mrs. Quack
than for Reddy Fox to have done so. Reddy was hunting them
because he was hungry. The hunter would have shot them for
sport. He didn't need them. He had plenty of other food.
Reddy Fox doesn't kill just for the pleasure of killing.
So the hunter continued to sit in his hiding-place with very
friendly feelings for Sammy Jay. Sammy watched Reddy Fox
disappear and then flew over to that side of the pond where the
hunter was. Mr. and Mrs. Quack called their thanks to Sammy, to
which he replied, that he had done no more for them than he would
do for anybody, or than they would have done for him.
For some time Sammy sat quietly in the top of the tree, but all
the time his sharp eyes were very busy. By and by he spied the
hunter sitting on the log. At first he couldn't make out just
what it was he was looking at. It didn't move, but nevertheless
Sammy was suspicious. Presently he flew over to a tree where he
could see better. Right away he spied the terrible gun, and he
knew just what that was. Once more he began to yell, "Thief!
thief! thief!" at the top of his lungs. It was then that the
hunter lost his temper. He knew that now he had been discovered
by Sammy Jay, and it was useless to remain there longer. He was
angry clear through.
CHAPTER XIX: Sammy Jay Is Modest
As soon as the angry hunter with the terrible gun had disappeared
among the trees of the Green Forest, and Lightfoot was sure that
he had gone for good, Lightfoot came out from his hiding-place on
top of the ridge and walked down to the pond of Paddy the Beaver
for a drink. He knew that it was quite safe to do so, for Sammy
Jay had followed the hunter, all the time screaming, "Thief!
thief! thief!" Every one within hearing could tell just where
that hunter was by Sammy's voice. It kept growing fainter and
fainter, and by that Lightfoot knew that the hunter was getting
farther and farther away.
Paddy the Beaver swam out from his hiding-place and climbed out
on the bank near Lightfoot. There was a twinkle in his
eyes. "That blue-coated mischief-maker isn't such a bad fellow at
heart, after all, is he?" said he.
Lightfoot lifted his beautiful head and set his ears forward to
catch the sound of Sammy's voice in the distance.
"Sammy Jay may be a mischief-maker, as some people say," said he,
"but you can always count on him to prove a true friend in time
of danger. He brought me warning of the coming of the hunter the
other morning. You saw him save Mr. and Mrs. Quack a little while
ago, and then he actually drove that hunter away. I suppose Sammy
Jay has saved more lives than any one I know of. I wish he would
come back here and let me thank him."
Some time later Sammy Jay did come back. "Well," said he, as he
smoothed his feathers, "I chased that fellow clear to the edge of
the Green Forest, so I guess there will be nothing more to fear
from him today. I'm glad to see he hasn't got you yet,
Lightfoot. I've been a bit worried about you."
"Sammy," said Lightfoot, "you are one of the best friends I
have. I don't know how I can ever thank you for what you have
done for me."
"Don't try," replied Sammy shortly. "I haven't done anything but
what anybody else would have done. Old Mother Nature gave me a
pair of good eyes and a strong voice. I simply make the best use
of them I can. Just to see a hunter with a terrible gun makes me
angry clear through. I 'd rather spoil his hunting than eat."
"You want to watch out, Sammy. One of these days a hunter will
lose his temper and shoot you, just to get even with you,"
warned Paddy the Beaver.
"Don't worry about me," replied Sammy. "I know just how far
those terrible guns can shoot, and I don't take any chances.
By the way, Lightfoot, the Green Forest is full of hunters looking
for you. I 've seen a lot of them, and I know they are looking
for you because they do not shoot at anybody else even when they
have a chance."
CHAPTER XX: Lightfoot Hears A Dreadful Sound
Day after day, Lightfoot the Deer played hide and seek for his
life with the hunters who were seeking to kill him. He saw them
many times, though not one of them saw him. More than once a
hunter passed close to Lightfoot's hiding-place without once
suspecting it.
But poor Lightfoot was feeling the strain. He was growing thin,
and he was so nervous that the falling of a dead leaf from a tree
would startle him. There is nothing quite so terrible as being
continually hunted. It was getting so that Lightfoot half
expected a hunter to step out from behind every tree. Only when
the Black Shadows wrapped the Green Forest in darkness did he
know a moment of peace. And those hours of safety were filled
with dread of what the next day might bring.
Early one morning a terrible sound rang through the Green Forest
and brought Lightfoot to his feet with a startled jump. It was
the baying of hounds following a trail. At first it did not sound
so terrible. Lightfoot had often heard it before. Many times he
had listened to the baying of Bowser the Hound, as he followed
Reddy Fox. It had not sounded so terrible then because it meant
no danger to Lightfoot.
At first, as he listened early that morning, he took it for
granted that those hounds were after Reddy, and so, though
startled, he was not worried. But suddenly a dreadful suspicion
came to him and he grew more and more anxious as he listened.
In a few minutes there was no longer any doubt in his mind.
Those hounds were following his trail. It was then that the sound
of that baying became terrible. He must run for his life!
Those hounds would give him no rest. And he knew that in running
from them, he would no longer be able to watch so closely for the
hunters with terrible guns. He would no longer be able to hide
in thickets. At any time he might be driven right past one of
those hunters.
Lightfoot bounded away with such leaps as only Lightfoot can make.
In a little while the voices of the hounds grew fainter.
Lightfoot stopped to get his breath and stood trembling
as he listened. The baying of the hounds again grew louder and
louder. Those wonderful noses of theirs were following his trail
without the least difficulty. In a panic of fear, Lightfoot
bounded away again. As he crossed an old road, the Green Forest
rang with the roar of a terrible gun. Something tore a strip of
bark from the trunk of a tree just above Lightfoot's back. It was
a bullet and it had just missed Lightfoot. It added to his terror
and this in turn added to his speed.
So Lightfoot ran and ran, and behind him the voices of the hounds
continued to ring through the Green Forest.
CHAPTER XXI: How Lightfoot Got Rid Of The Hounds
Poor Lightfoot! It seemed to him that there were no such things
as justice and fair play. Had it been just one hunter at a time
against whom he had to match his wits it would not have been so
bad. But there were many hunters with terrible guns looking for
him, and in dodging one he was likely at any time to meet
another. This in itself seemed terribly unfair and unjust.
But now, added to this was the greater unfairness of being trailed
by hounds.
Do you wonder that Lightfoot thought of men as utterly heartless?
You see, he could not know that those hounds had not been put on
his trail, but had left home to hunt for their own pleasure.
He could not know that it was against the law to hunt him with dogs.
But though none of those hunters looking for him were guilty
of having put the hounds on his trail, each one of them
was willing and eager to take advantage of the fact that the
hounds were on his trail. Already he had been shot at once and he
knew that he would be shot at again if he should be driven where
a hunter was hidden.
The ground was damp and scent always lies best on damp ground.
This made it easy for the hounds to follow him with their
wonderful noses. Lightfoot tried every trick he could think of to
make those hounds lose the scent.
"If only I could make them lose it long enough for me to get a
little rest, it would help," panted Lightfoot, as he paused for
just an instant to listen to the baying of the hounds.
But he couldn't. They allowed him no rest. He was becoming very,
very tired. He could no longer bound lightly over fallen logs or
brush, as he had done at first. His lungs ached as he panted for
breath. He realized that even though he should escape the hunters
he would meet an even more terrible death unless he could get rid
of those hounds. There would come a time when he would have to stop.
Then those hounds would catch up with him and tear him to pieces.
It was then that he remembered the Big River. He turned towards it.
It was his only chance and he knew it. Straight through the
Green Forest, out across the Green Meadows to the bank of the Big
River, Lightfoot ran. For just a second he paused to look behind.
The hounds were almost at his heels. Lightfoot hesitated
no longer but plunged into the Big River and began to swim.
On the banks the hounds stopped and bayed their disappointment,
for they did not dare follow Lightfoot out into the Big River.
CHAPTER XXII: Lightfoot's Long Swim
The Big River was very wide. It would have been a long swim for
Lightfoot had he been fresh and at his best. Strange as it may
seem, Lightfoot is a splendid swimmer, despite his small,
delicate feet. He enjoys swimming.
But now Lightfoot was terribly tired from his long run ahead of
the hounds. For a time he swam rapidly, but those weary muscles
grew still more weary, and by the time he reached the middle of
the Big River it seemed to him that he was not getting ahead at all.
At first he had tried to swim towards a clump of trees he
could see on the opposite bank above the point where he had
entered the water, but to do this he had to swim against the
current and he soon found that he hadn't the strength to do this.
Then he turned and headed for a point down the Big River.
This made the swimming easier, for the current helped him
instead of hindering him.