"Sammy Jay did me a good turn," thought the hunter, "although he doesn'tknow it. Reddy Fox certainly would have caught one of those Ducks hadSammy not come along just when he did. It would have been a shame tohave had one of them caught by that Fox. I mean to get one, and I hopeboth of them, myself."
Now when you come to think of it, it would have been a far greater shamefor the hunter to have killed Mr. and Mrs. Quack than for Reddy Fox tohave done so. Reddy was hunting them because he was hungry. The hunterwould have shot them for sport. He didn't need them. He had plenty ofother food. Reddy Fox doesn't kill just for the pleasure of killing.
So the hunter continued to sit in his hiding-place with very friendlyfeelings for Sammy Jay. Sammy watched Reddy Fox disappear and then flewover to that side of the pond where the hunter was. Mr. and Mrs. Quackcalled their thanks to Sammy, to which he replied, that he had done nomore for them than he would do for anybody, or than they would have donefor him.
For some time Sammy sat quietly in the top of the tree, but all the timehis sharp eyes were very busy. By and by he spied the hunter sitting onthe log. At first he couldn't make out just what it was he was lookingat. It didn't move, but nevertheless Sammy was suspicious. Presently heflew over to a tree where he could see better. Right away he spied theterrible gun, and he knew just what that was. Once more he began toyell, "Thief! thief! thief!" at the top of his lungs. It was then thatthe hunter lost his temper. He knew that now he had been discovered bySammy Jay, and it was useless to remain there longer. He was angry clearthrough.
CHAPTER XIX
SAMMY JAY IS MODEST
As soon as the angry hunter with the terrible gun had disappeared amongthe trees of the Green Forest, and Lightfoot was sure that he had gonefor good, Lightfoot came out from his hiding-place on top of the ridgeand walked down to the pond of Paddy the Beaver for a drink. He knewthat it was quite safe to do so, for Sammy Jay had followed the hunter,all the time screaming, "Thief! thief! thief!" Every one within hearingcould tell just where that hunter was by Sammy's voice. It kept growingfainter and fainter, and by that Lightfoot knew that the hunter wasgetting farther and farther away.
Paddy the Beaver swam out from his hiding-place and climbed out on thebank near Lightfoot. There was a twinkle in his eyes. "That blue-coatedmischief-maker isn't such a bad fellow at heart, after all, is he?" saidhe.
Lightfoot lifted his beautiful head and set his ears forward to catchthe sound of Sammy's voice in the distance.
"Sammy Jay may be a mischief-maker, as some people say," said he, "butyou can always count on him to prove a true friend in time of danger. Hebrought me warning of the coming of the hunter the other morning. Yousaw him save Mr. and Mrs. Quack a little while ago, and then he actuallydrove that hunter away. I suppose Sammy Jay has saved more lives thanany 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 smoothedhis feathers, "I chased that fellow clear to the edge of the GreenForest, so I guess there will be nothing more to fear from him to-day.I'm glad to see he hasn't got you yet, Lightfoot. I've been a bitworried about you."
"Sammy," said Lightfoot, "you are one of the best friends I have. Idon'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 whatanybody else would have done. Old Mother Nature gave me a pair of goodeyes and a strong voice. I simply make the best use of them I can. Justto see a hunter with a terrible gun makes me angry clear through. I'drather spoil his hunting than eat."
"You want to watch out, Sammy. One of these days a hunter will lose histemper and shoot you, just to get even with you," warned Paddy theBeaver.
"Don't worry about me," replied Sammy "I know just how far thoseterrible 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'veseen a lot of them, and I know they are looking for you because they donot 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 withthe hunters who were seeking to kill him. He saw them many times, thoughnot one of them saw him. More than once a hunter passed close toLightfoot's hiding-place without once suspecting it.
But poor Lightfoot was feeling the strain. He was growing thin, and hewas so nervous that the falling of a dead leaf from a tree wouldstartle him. There is nothing quite so terrible as being continuallyhunted. It was getting so that Lightfoot half expected a hunter to stepout from behind every tree. Only when the Black Shadows wrapped theGreen Forest in darkness did he know a moment of peace. And those hoursof safety were filled with dread of what the next day might bring.
Early one morning a terrible sound rang through the Green Forest andbrought Lightfoot to his feet with a startled jump. It was the baying ofhounds following a trail. At first it did not sound so terrible.Lightfoot had often heard it before. Many times he had listened to thebaying of Bowser the Hound, as he followed Reddy Fox. It had not soundedso terrible then because it meant no danger to Lightfoot.
At first, as he listened early that morning, he took it for granted thatthose hounds were after Reddy, and so, though startled, he was notworried. But suddenly a dreadful suspicion came to him and he grew moreand more anxious as he listened. In a few minutes there was no longerany doubt in his mind. Those hounds were following his trail. It wasthen that the sound of that baying became terrible. He must run for hislife! Those hounds would give him no rest. And he knew that in runningfrom them, he would no longer be able to watch so closely for thehunters with terrible guns. He would no longer be able to hide inthickets. At any time he might be driven right past one of thosehunters.
Lightfoot bounded away with such leaps as only Lightfoot can make. In alittle while the voices of the hounds grew fainter. Lightfoot stopped toget his breath and stood trembling as he listened. The baying of thehounds again grew louder and louder. Those wonderful noses of theirswere following his trail without the least difficulty. In a panic offear, Lightfoot bounded away again. As he crossed an old road, theGreen Forest rang with the roar of a terrible gun. Something tore astrip of bark from the trunk of a tree just above Lightfoot's back. Itwas a bullet and it had just missed Lightfoot. It added to his terrorand this in turn added to his speed.
So Lightfoot ran and ran, and behind him the voices of the houndscontinued 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 asjustice and fair play. Had it been just one hunter at a time againstwhom he had to match his wits it would not have been so bad. But therewere many hunters with terrible guns looking for him, and in dodging onehe was likely at any time to meet another. This in itself seemedterribly unfair and unjust. But now, added to this was the greaterunfairness of being trailed by hounds.
Do you wonder that Lightfoot thought of men as utterly heartless? Yousee, 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 thatit was against the law to hunt him with dogs. But though none of thosehunters looking for him were guilty of having put the hounds on histrail, each one of them was willing and eager to take advantage of thefact that the hounds were on his trail. Already he had been shot at onceand he knew that he would be shot at again if he should be driven wherea hunter was hidden.
The ground was damp and scent always lies best on damp ground. Thismade it easy for the hounds to follow him with their wonderful noses.Lightfoot tried every trick he could think of to make those hounds losethe scent.
"If only I could make them lose it long enough for me to get a littlerest, it would help," panted Lightfoot, as he paused for just an instantto listen to the baying of the hounds.
But he couldn't. They allowed him no rest. He was becoming very,
verytired. He could no longer bound lightly over fallen logs or brush, as hehad done at first. His lungs ached as he panted for breath. He realizedthat even though he should escape the hunters he would meet an even moreterrible death unless he could get rid of those hounds. There wouldcome a time when he would have to stop. Then those hounds would catch upwith him and tear him to pieces.
It was then that he remembered the Big River. He turned towards it. Itwas his only chance and he knew it. Straight through the Green Forest,out across the Green Meadows to the bank of the Big River, Lightfootran. For just a second he paused to look behind. The hounds were almostat his heels. Lightfoot hesitated no longer but plunged into the BigRiver and began to swim. On the banks the hounds stopped and bayed theirdisappointment, for they did not dare follow Lightfoot out into the BigRiver.
CHAPTER XXII
LIGHTFOOT'S LONG SWIM
The Big River was very wide. It would have been a long swim forLightfoot had he been fresh and at his best. Strange as it may seem,Lightfoot is a splendid swimmer, despite his small, delicate feet. Heenjoys swimming.
But now Lightfoot was terribly tired from his long run ahead of thehounds. For a time he swam rapidly, but those weary muscles grew stillmore weary, and by the time he reached the middle of the Big River itseemed to him that he was not getting ahead at all. At first he hadtried to swim towards a clump of trees he could see on the opposite bankabove the point where he had entered the water, but to do this he had toswim against the current and he soon found that he hadn't the strengthto 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 ofhindering him.
Even then he could feel his strength leaving him. Had he escaped thosehounds and the terrible hunters only to be drowned in the Big River?This new fear gave him more strength for a little while. But it did notlast long. He was three fourths of the way across the Big River butstill that other shore seemed a long distance away. Little by littlehope died in the heart of Lightfoot the Deer. He would keep on just aslong as he could and then,--well, it was better to drown than to be tornto pieces by dogs.
Just as Lightfoot felt that he could not take another stroke and thatthe end was at hand, one foot touched something. Then, all four feettouched. A second later he had found solid footing and was standing withthe water only up to his knees. He had found a little sand bar out inthe Big River. With a little gasp of returning hope, Lightfoot wadedalong until the water began to grow deeper again. He had hoped that hewould be able to wade ashore, but he saw now that he would have to swimagain.
So for a long time he remained right where he was. He was so tired thathe trembled all over, and he was as frightened as he was tired. He knewthat standing out there in the water he could be seen for a longdistance, and that made him nervous and fearful. Supposing a hunter onthe shore he was trying to reach should see him. Then he would have nochance at all, for the hunter would simply wait for him and shoot him ashe came out of the water.
But rest he must, and so he stood for a long time on the little sand barin the Big River. And little by little he felt his strength returning.
CHAPTER XXIII
LIGHTFOOT FINDS A FRIEND
As Lightfoot rested, trying to recover his breath, out there on thelittle sand bar in the Big River, his great, soft, beautiful eyeswatched first one bank and then the other. On the bank he had left, hecould see two black-and-white specks moving about, and across the watercame the barking of dogs. Those two specks were the hounds who haddriven him into the Big River. They were barking now, instead of baying.Presently a brown form joined the black-and-white specks. It was ahunter drawn there by the barking of the dogs. He was too far away to bedangerous, but the mere sight of him filled Lightfoot with terror again.He watched the hunter walk along the bank and disappear in the bushes.
Presently out of the bushes came a boat, and in it was the hunter. Heheaded straight towards Lightfoot, and then Lightfoot knew that hisbrief rest was at an end. He must once more swim or be shot by thehunter in the boat. So Lightfoot again struck out for the shore. Hisrest had given him new strength, but still he was very, very tired andswimming was hard work.
Slowly, oh so slowly, he drew nearer to the bank. What new dangersmight be waiting there, he did not know. He had never been on that sideof the Big River. He knew nothing of the country on that side. But theuncertainty was better than the certainty behind him. He could hear thesound of the oars as the hunter in the boat did his best to get to himbefore he should reach the shore.
On Lightfoot struggled. At last he felt bottom beneath his feet. Hestaggered up through some bushes along the bank and then for an instantit seemed to him his heart stopped beating. Right in front of him stooda man. He had come out into the back yard of the home of that man. It isdoubtful which was the more surprised, Lightfoot or the man. Right thenand there Lightfoot gave up in despair. He couldn't run. It was all hecould do to walk. The long chase by the hounds on the other side of theBig River and the long swim across the Big River had taken all hisstrength.
Not a spark of hope remained to Lightfoot. He simply stood still andtrembled, partly with fear and partly with weariness. Then a surprisingthing happened. The man spoke softly. He advanced, not threateningly butslowly, and in a friendly way. He walked around back of Lightfoot andthen straight towards him. Lightfoot walked on a few steps, and the manfollowed, still talking softly. Little by little he urged Lightfoot on,driving him towards an open shed in which was a pile of hay. Withoutunderstanding just how, Lightfoot knew that he had found a friend. So heentered the open shed and with a long sigh lay down in the soft hay.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE HUNTER IS DISAPPOINTED
How he knew he was safe, Lightfoot the Deer couldn't have told you. Hejust knew it, that was all. He couldn't understand a word said by theman in whose yard he found himself when he climbed the bank after hislong swim across the Big River. But he didn't have to understand wordsto know that he had found a friend. So he allowed the man to drive himgently over to an open shed where there was a pile of soft hay and therehe lay down, so tired that it seemed to him he couldn't move anotherstep.
It was only a few minutes later that the hunter who had followedLightfoot across the River reached the bank and scrambled out of hisboat. Lightfoot's friend was waiting just at the top of the bank. Ofcourse the hunter saw him at once.
"Hello, Friend!" cried the hunter. "Did you see a Deer pass this way afew minutes ago? He swam across the river, and if I know anything aboutit he's too tired to travel far now. I've been hunting that fellow forseveral days, and if I have any luck at all I ought to get him thistime."
"I'm afraid you won't have any luck at all," said Lightfoot's friend."You see, I don't allow any hunting on my land."
The hunter looked surprised, and then his surprise gave way to anger."You mean," said he, "that you intend to get that Deer yourself."
Lightfoot's friend shook his head. "No," said he, "I don't mean anythingof the kind. I mean that that Deer is not to be killed if I can preventit, and while it is on my land, I think I can. The best thing for you todo, my friend, is to get into your boat and row back where you camefrom. Are those your hounds barking over there?"
"No," replied the hunter promptly. "I know the law just as well as youdo, and it is against the law to hunt Deer with dogs. I don't even knowwho owns those two hounds over there."
"That may be true," replied Lightfoot's friend. "I don't doubt it istrue. But you are willing to take advantage of the fact that the dogs ofsome one else have broken the law. You knew that those dogs had driventhat Deer into the Big River and you promptly took advantage of the factto try to reach that Deer before he could get across. You are nothunting for the pleasure of hunting but just to kill. You don't know themeaning of justice or fairness. Now get off my land. Get back into yourboat and off my land as quick as you can. That Deer is not very farfrom here and so tired that he cannot move. Just as long as he will stayhere, he will be
safe, and I hope he will stay until this miserablehunting season is ended. Now go."
Muttering angrily, the hunter got back into his boat and pushed off, buthe didn't row back across the river.
CHAPTER XXV
THE HUNTER LIES IN WAIT
If ever there was an angry hunter, it was the one who had followedLightfoot the Deer across the Big River. When he was ordered to get offthe land where Lightfoot had climbed out, he got back into his boat, buthe didn't row back to the other side. Instead, he rowed down the river,finally landing on the same side but on land which Lightfoot's frienddid not own.
"When that Deer has become rested he'll become uneasy," thought thehunter. "He won't stay on that man's land. He'll start for the nearestwoods. I'll go up there and wait for him. I'll get that Deer if only tospite that fellow back there who drove me off. Had it not been for him,I'd have that Deer right now. He was too tired to have gone far. He'sgot the handsomest pair of antlers I've seen for years. I can sell thathead of his for a good price."
So the hunter tied his boat to a tree and once more climbed out. Heclimbed up the bank and studied the land. Across a wide meadow he couldsee a brushy old pasture and back of that some thick woods. He grinned.
"That's where that Deer will head for," he decided. "There isn't anyother place for him to go. All I've got to do is be patient and wait."
So the hunter took his terrible gun and tramped across the meadow to thebrush-grown pasture. There he hid among the bushes where he could peepout and watch the land of Lightfoot's friend. He was still angry becausehe had been prevented from shooting Lightfoot. At the same time hechuckled, because he thought himself very smart. Lightfoot couldn'tpossibly reach the shelter of the woods without giving him a shot, andhe hadn't the least doubt that Lightfoot would start for the woods justas soon as he felt able to travel. So he made himself comfortable andprepared to wait the rest of the day, if necessary.