Green Forest Stories, Thornton W. Burgess [ebook reader color screen .TXT] 📗

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!” Everyone 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 anyone 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.”

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.

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