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diff --git a/35749-0.txt b/35749-0.txt index 5952796..a8714e5 100644 --- a/35749-0.txt +++ b/35749-0.txt @@ -1,26 +1,4 @@ - The Adventures of Fleetfoot and Her Fawns - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with almost -no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Title: The Adventures of Fleetfoot and Her Fawns - -Author: Allen Chaffee - -Release Date: April 01, 2011 [EBook #35749] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF FLEETFOOT -AND HER FAWNS *** - - - +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 35749 *** Produced by Roger Frank. @@ -2393,376 +2371,4 @@ and weasels. But don’t any one hurt my friends!” Thus Fleet Foot and her fawns were allowed to live happily on, as season followed season in the good green woods. - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF FLEETFOOT AND -HER FAWNS *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35749 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the -General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and -distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the Project -Gutenberg™ concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Title: The Adventures of Fleetfoot and Her Fawns - -Author: Allen Chaffee - -Release Date: April 01, 2011 [EBook #35749] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF FLEETFOOT -AND HER FAWNS *** - - - - -Produced by Roger Frank. - - - THE ADVENTURES OF - FLEET FOOT - AND HER FAWNS - - A True-to-Nature Story for - Children and Their Elders - - BY - ALLEN CHAFFEE - - Author of - "Twinkly Eyes," "The Little Black Bear," "Trail and - Tree Top," and "Lost River, or The Adventures - of Two Boys in the Big Woods" - - ILLUSTRATED - - MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY - SPRINGFIELD, MASSACHUSETTS - - - - ---- - - - Copyright 1920, by - MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY - - SPRINGFIELD, MASS. - - Adventures of Fleet Foot - Bradley Quality Books for Children - - - - ---- - - - - TO - POLLY - WHO IS A DEAR - HERSELF - - - - ---- - - - - -CONTENTS - - - - CHAPTER I.--THE SPOTTED FAWNS. - - - CHAPTER II.--A FOXY TRICK. - - - CHAPTER III.--AT THE VALLEY FARM. - - - CHAPTER IV.--THE ROUND-UP. - - - CHAPTER V.--A SON OF THE WILD. - - - CHAPTER VI.--A STRANGE FRIENDSHIP. - - - CHAPTER VII.--A WIT OUT-WITTED. - - - CHAPTER VIII.--STEEP TRAILS. - - - CHAPTER IX--THE OGRE OF THE AIR. - - - CHAPTER X.--WILD GRAPES. - - - CHAPTER XI.--SPECKLED TROUT. - - - CHAPTER XII.--THE VICTOR. - - - CHAPTER XIII.--THE QUEER FEATHERS. - - - CHAPTER XIV--STARVATION TIME - - - CHAPTER XV.--THE GRAY WOLVES. - - - CHAPTER XVI.--THE FARMER'S PLAN. - - - ---- - - - - THE ADVENTURES OF FLEET FOOT AND HER FAWNS - - - - - -CHAPTER I.--THE SPOTTED FAWNS. - - -"Me-o-ow!" screamed Old Man Lynx, from the heart of the woods. The two -spotted fawns heard the cry from their laurel copse on the rim of Lone -Lake. But, though their big, soft eyes were round with terror, so -perfectly had they been trained, they never so much as twitched an ear. -Well did they know that the slightest movement might show to some -prowler of the night just where they lay hidden. - -Next morning, no sooner had the birds begun to chirp themselves awake, -than Mother Fleet Foot fed the fawns as usual and ate her own light -breakfast of lily pads, Then she lined up the two fawns before her. - -"Children," she said, in deer language, "you have a great deal to learn -before ever you can take care of yourselves in these woods. From now on -we are going to have lessons." - -"Yes, Mother," bleated the little ones, "but what are lessons." - -"They are going to be as much like play as we can make them," said Fleet -Foot. "You need practice in running, and we must play 'Follow the -Leader' every day. Mother, of course, will be the leader. It will be -lots of fun." - -The fawns waggled their ears in delight. - -"Now listen, both of you," said Fleet Foot. "_This_ means danger! Follow -me!" And she stamped her foot three times and whistled, as she leaped -away through the bushes. - -"Just watch my white flag, and you'll know where to follow," she called; -and she showed them how, when she ran, she held the white lining of her -tail straight up to show which way she had gone. This was because her -brown back might not show between the tree-trunks. - -"And when I give the danger signal, you must give it, too, to warn the -others," she added, leaping back to their side. - -"What others?" asked the tinier fawn. - -"Any deer within ear-shot. That is how we help each other. And -remember--obey on the instant! It is the only safe way!" - -Suddenly she gave the danger signal! - -This time it was in real alarm, for she had spied a black snake wiggling -toward them. The fawns bounded after her, just in time to escape the -ugly fellow. And, because woods babies learn quickly they remembered to -give their own tiny stamp and whistle, their own wee white flags -wig-wagging behind them. Fleet Foot could have killed the snake with her -sharp fore-hoof, but a deer's long legs are better suited to running -away when danger is near. - -The next day she taught them to leap exactly in her footprints. She took -short steps, so that it would be easy for them. Great skill and -experience is needed for a deer to know where and how to put his feet -down when he makes those great leaps of his. He may land, now among the -rocks, now in marshy ground, slipping over mosses and scrambling over -tree-trunks. It would be only too easy to break one of those slender -legs, and be at the mercy of his enemies. - -By the time the fawns were six weeks old, they had learned just how to -land without stumbling and hurting their frail ankles. Then, one day, -young Frisky Fox, hiding at the edge of the clearing, saw a strange -sight. In fact, he thought he had never seen anything quite so odd in -all his life. - -Down four little trails from the hill-top came four does, Fleet Foot -among the number. And close behind each doe came her two fawns. Then a -fifth mother came from the other side of the meadow. She had only one -baby with her. - -It was to be a sort of party. But the fawns were most unwilling to get -acquainted, as their mothers intended them to do. The baby bucks made at -each other with heads lowered, ready to fight. The infant does backed -timidly away to the edge of the meadow. But their mothers insisted, with -gentle shakings of their heads and shovings of their velvet noses. - -They were pretty creatures, these baby deer, with their soft -orange-brown coats spotted with white, and their great innocent brown -eyes! Everything about them, from their slender legs to their swinging -stride, was graceful. - -Now the mothers formed in line, the little ones trailing along behind -them. "Ah!" thought Frisky Fox, "a game of 'Follow the Leader'." He and -his brothers had often played it with Father and Mother Red Fox. - -At first the does ran slowly around the clearing, then they quickened -their pace, the little ones trying their best to keep up. - -Suddenly Fleet Foot, who was in the lead, leaped over a fallen log at -the edge of the glade and off into the woodland. The other does -followed. Then came Fleet Foot's youngest. This little scamp only ran -around the log, while her brother crawled under. - -But that was not what Fleet Foot wanted. She came back, stamping her -foot for attention. - -"Do just as I do!" she insisted. "Now come back and try it over again." -And she trotted out into the glade, and circled around it, the tinier -fawn close at her heels, till she came to the log again. - -"Now!" she stamped, taking the leap once more. The fawn followed till -she came to the log, then stopped short, with her nose against it. Fleet -Foot hurdled back, and coming up behind, butted the youngster with her -head till the fawn tried to jump. This time the little creature went -over, as light as a bit of thistle-down--probably much to her own -surprise. - -Then Fleet Foot turned to the larger fawn. "Come, now, there's nothing -like trying," she urged. But he only gave a ba-a-ah! and wriggled under -the tree-trunk again. - -"Follow me," his mother bade him. First she led him several times around -the glade. "Now!" she stamped, leaping the log once more. This time he -followed without stopping to think about it. - -The other fawns behaved much the same way, but at last their mothers had -them all in line. Then what a race they had! First around and around the -opening, faster and faster and faster. Then, without warning, across the -log and back again, till every infant buck and doe of them could do it -perfectly. - -"Um!" sniffed Frisky Fox. "Wouldn't one of those little fellows make -good eating? I'd certainly like to try it!" For the smell of venison -that blew to his nostrils on the breeze fairly made his mouth water. - -But Frisky was too wise a pup to think for an instant he could catch -one. And so he finally trotted off to stay his appetite with field mice. -But he told Father Red Fox about it that night in the den on the -hillside, and the older fox made up his mind that next day he would be -the one to watch when the fawns came to the meadow. If he couldn't catch -one, at least he liked to know all that went on in the woods. One never -knew when an odd bit of knowledge might come in handy to a fellow that -lives by his wits. - -That day the fawns were being drilled to run around and around in -circles. They made a track like a figure 8, only with three loops -instead of two. Sometimes one of the little fellows would slip and -stumble. - -"I have it," Father Red Fox told himself. "The fawns are learning to -make a quick turn. Because they'd break their legs if they were to -stumble that way in the underbrush." - -The old fox knew that he could never catch one by the usual methods. He -did wonder, though, if he might not corner one by trickery. So, gliding -from tree-trunk to tree-trunk, he crept nearer the unsuspecting little -school, keeping always on the side where the wind could tell no tales! - - - - -CHAPTER II.--A FOXY TRICK. - - -Now it was chiefly in a spirit of mischief that Father Red Fox decided -to chase the fawns. To tell the truth, the old fellow was proud of his -wits; and though he knew he could not hope to catch them and bring them -down by a straightaway race, he thought he might use some trickery on -them. - -So, he watched and waited till he should find them alone. After an hour -or more in the racing meadow, Fleet Foot called to her little ones with -a "He-eu" and a stamp of her little fore-hoof, and led them back to Lone -Lake, where they all waded out after their supper of lily pads. Every -minute of the time Father Red Fox was right behind, but always with the -wind in his face, so that she wouldn't catch his musky scent on the -breeze with that wonderful nose of hers. - -Now Father Red Fox knew one thing about Fleet Foot, the doe. He knew -that when she heard a sound that alarmed her, she always ran straight -away from the sound, without once stopping to see what made it. No -sooner, therefore, was she neck-deep in Lone Lake, with her back to the -shore, than he cracked a twig behind her. - -The doe, hearing that, supposed of course it must be Old Man Lynx, at -least, or perhaps a big black bear, as nothing so small and dainty as a -fox ever made a sound like that. - -She was terribly frightened, and whistling the fawns to follow, she swam -straight across the Lake, never once stopping for breath till they -scrambled up the opposite bank. - -But Father Red Fox had raced around the upper end of the Lake, just far -enough back in the woods so that she couldn't see him. And the instant -the tired little family planted their hoofs on dry ground, Red Fox, -hiding behind a boulder, cracked an even larger twig, and made them -think there was another bear on that side of the Lake. - -So she had to lead them back across the Lake again, to the third line of -shore. But Father Red Fox was there before her and cracked another twig -to make her think there was a bear on that side, too. - -This time the fawns were fairly gasping for breath, their little spotted -sides heaving painfully and their big eyes round with fright. But there -was no help for it; Fleet Foot had to make them swim back across the -Lake to the fourth bank, where she hoped to get into the woods before -the three bears could catch her. She was quite worn out, herself, by -now, and it was only the fear of death that kept her in the race at all. -But finally up the bank she stumbled, and on down a forest trail, her -fawns following desperately. - -Father Red Fox laughed as he ran around the Lake. They were all so worn -out that it should be an easy matter to corner them. In fact, that -wicked fellow had one of the meanest plans in his black heart that ever -deserved the name of a foxy trick. And so far it had worked. - -Fleet Foot, believing she had nothing less than a bear on her trail, -raced on and on till her flanks dripped foam and her legs felt weak and -wobbly--which was just what the old fox intended. On he raced after her, -knowing she wouldn't stop even to turn her head. - -Then, suddenly, he made a short cut in the trail and headed her straight -toward a brush heap. The tired doe drew her trembling legs together for -the leap that would carry her over in safety. But there was not quite -enough spring left in those delicate hind quarters. She came down too -soon, catching one of her slim feet in the brush. It broke her leg. - -Ah, but Red Fox had hoped it would be one of the fawns. Fleet Foot he -dared not approach, because she could strike him with her sharp -fore-hoofs, and punish him severely. In fact, had she known it was only -a fox behind her, she would have stopped to face him long ago. - -The fawns--little rascals that they were--had not tried to leap the -brush heap; they had left the trail and gone around it, hiding--when -their mother fell--by crawling under a juniper bush. And there they -waited, without so much as waggling an ear, till Red Fox had given up -his quest in disgust and trotted away home. - -But their troubles were not ended. For one thing, they were hungry. -Besides, what was Fleet Foot to do, helpless there where a real bear -might find her? - -Just then they heard a cowbell. - -Clover Blossom, the soft-eyed Jersey at the Valley Farm, must have found -a broken place in the pasture fence, and wandered into the woods again. -She loved to go exploring. - -This time she gave the Boy a chase. Here it was, nearly dark! Straining -his ears to catch the sound, he decided he must creep very softly upon -her, or she would never let him catch her. - -The Boy, however, was not the only one to hear the tinkle of the -cowbell. Though Clover Blossom grazed quite unaware that she was being -watched, as an actual fact she had quite an audience of wood folk around -her, peering and sniffing and studying the situation. Softly, silently, -creeping through the hazel copse, came Frisky, the fox pup, as curious -as his nose was long. Then came Bobby, Madame Lynx's kitten, to whose -nostrils the odor was most tempting, though he did not dare attack an -animal so large. Crouched flat along a low-hanging branch, he peered and -peered with his narrow gold-green eyes, his claws working nervously into -the bark. - -Came also Unk-Wunk, the Porcupine, rattling his slow way up a beech tree -from whose top he could see all that was going on. He, too, watched -curiously as the Jersey wandered from one huckleberry bush to another, -lowing faintly now and then as she realized that she needed to be -milked. - -But the two who were most interested as she came their way were the -hungry fawns. They had waited hours for the familiar stamp of their -mother's foot that should call them to her, and for the warm milk that -had never failed them when they needed it, and their little stomachs -ached worse and worse. - -The hot sun had crept across the sky, and the birds who had chirped and -warbled over their breakfast had come out again for the cool of the late -afternoon to chatter over their worms. Then the sun had grown large and -red in the west, and the crickets had begun to chirp, and the -white-footed deer mice to scuttle through the leaves in search of -beetles. Finally the shadows had grown long and black, and the woods -full of a breathing silence, and still they waited for their mother to -come and feed them. - -Then, at last, they crept to where Clover Blossom mooed her invitation -for some one to relieve her udders of their creamy burden. And when the -Boy finally peered through the bushes beyond which she stood, he stopped -amazed. For there on either side of her a tiny fawn stood nursing! - -"Something must have happened to their mother," he told himself. "I -wonder if I could coax them to go home with Clover Blossom?" - -Then he heard a rustle behind him. Bobby Lynx was slinking home. (He was -ever a coward where human beings were concerned.) The next instant the -boy spied Fleet Foot, lying helpless in the brush heap. - -In her exhaustion after the chase, the pain of her broken leg, and her -terror, as she listened, hour after hour, for the coming of stealthy -padded feet, she had been too weak to struggle. Then had come a kindly -stupor. - -The Boy set about applying such first aid as he had at his command. -First knotting her fore feet together with his handkerchief so that she -could not struggle, he searched until he found a cedar sapling very -nearly the size of the leg that was broken. With his jack-knife he made -two length-wise slits and removed the bark in two pieces, as nearly the -same size as he could make them. They were just long enough to reach -below the foot of the deer and above the knee. - -These he lined comfortably with dry moss and crumpled grass, for he was -going to be as tender of the doe as he would be of a person. Next he -tore his shirt, which was an old one, into bandages the width of his -wrist, knotting their ends together. For splints he went down to Lone -Lake and gathered a bundle of good strong rushes. - -But when he tried to set the bone, Fleet Foot struggled so that he had -to run home for his father. - -The Valley Farmer was a man who could not see any creature suffer, so he -came straight back with his son. Lifting her to the ground, the farmer -braced himself and held the injured leg while the Boy gently but firmly -grasped it with one hand above the fracture and one below. My! How it -must have hurt! But his practised fingers pulled the two pieces of bone -in opposite directions till he got them end to end! Fleet Foot tried -hard to struggle free, for of course she did not understand. But she was -helpless. Then the Boy worked the bones, ever so gently, till a slight -thud announced to his listening ear that they had fitted together right. -Next, he applied the padded halves of the cedar bark, which--as he had -intended--did not reach quite around the leg. For, in this way, he could -tie them more firmly, as he bandaged them immovably in place with the -strips of his torn shirt. - -"There!" the Farmer sighed at last. "That ought to heal. I don't see why -a few weeks of rest and good feeding ought not to set her on her feet -again. But we'll have to make a litter to take her home." - - - - -CHAPTER III.--AT THE VALLEY FARM. - - -Now that her broken leg had been set so skillfully, Fleet Foot felt -better. And the fawns were content to get their supper of the Jersey -cow. - -But the Boy and his father had to face the problem of getting them all -back to the Valley Farm. - -"How can we make a litter?" asked the Boy, who was not so skilled in -wood-craft as the Farmer. - -"First, find two good long poles," his father directed. "I wish we'd -brought an axe, but perhaps you can manage with your jack-knife." And -under his direction the Boy found what he needed. Next they peeled the -bark from a chestnut tree, and on this they arranged a mattress of dried -moss, then tied it firmly between the two long poles. Stretching this -flat on the ground, they laid Fleet Foot on it and carried her home in -state, one of them shouldering either end of the litter. - -"She ought to ride easy on that," said the backwoodsman. But the doe -shrank back in fear when the Boy tried laying his hand caressingly on -her velvet throat. For every moment she expected they would kill her. - -The fawns followed Clover Blossom, and finally they came out into the -star-lit meadow, where Fleet Foot caught the odor of cows and sheep from -the big red barn. The next thing she knew, she was lying on a mound of -sweet-smelling dried clover, in a clean stall of that same barn, and -there was a pail of water beside her. She roused herself to drink -feverishly, standing on three legs, but she could not eat. Then followed -a few hours when she slept despite her fears, because she was too tired -to keep awake. - -In the pink dawn she awoke at the sound of the milk-pails, and her first -thought was of the fawns. The Boy brought her a hatful of grass; but her -great eyes only searched wistfully through the woodland and meadow -before the open door, and on to the dew-wet forest where she thought -they waited, and she struggled weakly to get to her feet and go to them. - -"She's worrying about her babies," said the Boy. "Can't we show them to -her?" he begged his father. - -"The only trouble with that," the farmer replied, "is that, once they -get a sight of her, they won't have anything more to do with Clover -Blossom, and she's got to take care of them till their own mother is -well again. But that leg will heal quickly. The bone was broken in only -one place. We've got to keep her quiet, though,--and the fawns are -better off where they are." - -Thus several weeks went by, till at last Fleet Foot was able to trip -daintily into the pasture lot. But still she worried about the fawns. -She was comfortable and well fed, and was even becoming used to the Boy, -who brought her food and water every morning and sometimes a few grains -of rock salt. Through the bars of the open doorway she could gaze -straight into the cool green woods all day. Had it not been for her -longing for the fawns, she would have been quite content to lie still -and get well. - -The bone had set quickly, for her life in the open had given her pure -blood and much reserve strength. But she was anxious to make her escape -and search for her babies. Little did she dream, in the confusion of -sounds and smells that filled the barn every day, that the pair actually -came to Clover Blossom's stall. - -Meantime, the fawns throve on the Jersey milk. Though too shy to mingle -with the cows and sheep in the pasture lot, they spent their days in a -clump of alders down by the brook. - -"Won't they be happy when they get their own mother back?" the Boy -exclaimed to his father one evening. - -The Father looked at his son in a puzzled way. - -"The doe has disappeared," he announced. "I had just taken the splints -off her leg. It was healed as good as new. Thought I'd turn her loose in -the pasture to limber up a bit, when--would you believe it?--she leaped -clean over that fence, and off into the woods out of sight." - -"Honestly?" exclaimed the Boy. "Without so much as a thank you! And what -will become of her now?" - -"Oh, she'll be all right. But isn't it a shame now we didn't let her -have her fawns?" - -"Perhaps we can keep them ourselves," ventured the Boy wistfully, for he -loved pets. "We could tame them and let them grow up with the cows. -They're half tame already." - -"I don't believe a wild thing is ever really happy that way," mused the -Farmer. "Do you?" - -"No, perhaps not," decided the Boy. "And besides, their mother will -break her heart if she never finds them again." - -"She'll feel badly, of course. But don't you see, the fawns will take to -the woods again, sooner or later, unless we keep them tied all the time. -And then do you know what would happen? They wouldn't know how to take -care of themselves, without their mother's training." - -"Oh," said the Boy. "And some hungry animal might catch them for its -dinner!" - -"I'm afraid so," agreed the Farmer. "It is always the young animals that -have lost their mothers that get caught." - -"Say, I've noticed a funny thing," said the Boy, a few days later. -"Clover Blossom has been giving more milk lately, and yet the fawns -aren't weaned." - -"You didn't see what I saw last night," said the Farmer, smiling. And he -told the Boy where to watch. - -Meantime what had become of Fleet Foot? First she leaped the fence, and -took to the trail down which Clover Blossom had wandered--here over the -smooth pine needles, there through the crackling oak leaves, and yonder -over a fallen log. And as she went, she nibbled course after course of -the dainties of the woodland. - -How fit she felt, after her long imprisonment! How swift her slender -hoofs, how strong her long hind legs that could send her over a hazel -copse like steel springs! And how good it was to be alive in a world all -sunshine and dancing butterflies and tinkling streams! - -But where were her fawns? She searched and searched for some sign of the -little fellows. But she searched in vain. And all the joy went out of -life again. - -Then, one evening, as she stood on a hill-top watching the Boy drive the -cows home from pasture, she saw something that made her lonely heart -beat high with hope. She couldn't make out the little spotted coats so -far away, but she did see their red-brown outlines, so tiny beside the -cows, and the furtive way they shied along, as if they never could get -used to coming right out in the open. And her anxious mother-heart -assured her that they were worth a closer view. - -So, the next night, before they turned off the lane to the pasture lot, -the fawns heard the little stamp that had always been their mother's -signal. "Wait where you are--and hide!" she bade them with her whistled -"Hiew!" "I will come to you." - -And they obeyed, thrilling with a great wave of homesick longing for the -mother they had thought lost to them. The Boy, tip-toeing back to see -what had become of his pets, found the doe in the pasture lot, nursing -her fawns. - -And though he did not know it, she stayed with them until the first gray -light in the east warned her that she must leave them for the day. For -the fence was too high for the fawns to leap. - -The next night the Boy watched again, from the cover of the hay-stack. -Before long the doe leaped smoothly into the pasture, stamping for the -fawns. Then he saw the flash of her white tail signaling for them to -follow, and after that, two tinier tails wig-wagging through the dusk as -they disappeared in the alders down by the brook that ran through the -lower end of the pasture. - -The Boy stared after them awhile, a smile of sympathy in his eyes. -Then--ever so softly, so as not to alarm them--he slipped across to -where she had leaped the fence, and lifted the top bars away. - -The next morning the fawns were gone! - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER IV.--THE ROUND-UP. - - -Once back in the good green woods, both Fleet Foot and the fawns capered -joyously. - -It was good just to be alive. - -Up and down through the forest trails they galloped,--down to Lone Lake, -then back to Pollywog Pond and along the familiar trails on the slopes -of Mt. Olaf. Summer was even riper and lovelier than when they had been -taken to the Valley Farm,--and to the fawns, remember, it was their -first taste of mid-summer in the Maine woods. - -These tiny fellows leaped and gamboled hide-and-seek, till you would -have thought they would have broken their fragile legs among the -boulders and fallen tree-trunks. But their mother knew her training had -been thorough, and they would know just how to leap and land with -safety. - -"Hello, there!--Chick-a-dee-dee, Chick-a-dee-dee," a little gray bird in -a black cap kept calling, as he followed from tree to tree. - -When at last they had had their dinner of warm milk, and Fleet Foot had -cropped her fill of the tender green things that lay like a banquet -table everywhere about them, she led them to a little rocky ledge that -over-looked Lone Lake, where they could lie under the partial shade of a -clump of yellow birch trees and rest, while she chewed her cud. The -black fly season was well past, and there was nothing to disturb them -save a passing swarm of midges that couldn't begin to bite through their -thick fur. - -(They little dreamed that Frisky, the Red Fox Pup, was peering down on -them from a higher crag, where he, too, crouched on the red-brown soil -that proved such a perfect cam-ou-flage.) - -No one save a fox could have seen the fawns, so long as they lay still, -their tawny orange-brown coats blended so perfectly with the ground. And -if anyone had noticed the white spots on their sides, he would have -taken them for a glint of the creamy birch-bark. - -At first the 'two youngsters watched a yellow-jacketed bumble-bee, who -bumbled and tumbled among the perfumed spikes of the Solomon's seals. -Then their ears pricked to a new voice. - -"Greetings, my friends!" called a cheery red-brown coated bird who had -been rustling about among the dead leaves just behind them. - -He was as large as a robin, with even longer beak and tail, and his -creamy breast was streaked with darker brown. - -"Hello, Thrush," bleated the fawns in shy friendliness. - -"You mustn't look for any nest in the bushes around here, because you -won't find it," twittered Thrush, in a tone Old Man Red Fox would have -been suspicious of. "Listen! I am going to give you a concert!" And he -flew to the birch tree over their heads. - -There followed a program of the most varied trills and whistles the -fawns had ever heard; and though his voice was not so sweet toned as -some of the tinier birds', his throaty trills and liquid, low-pitched -chirps and whistles were just as delightful as they could be. - -There were bird calls all around them, "Pee-wees" and "Chip-chip-chips" -and "Wee-wee-wee-wees" and all sorts of soft little calls and answers. - -They none of them minded the fawns in the least, except those who had -nests on the ground. They always watched nervously when the frisky -fellows capered too near, with their sharp little hoofs, though they -knew the fawns wouldn't hurt an ant if they knew it. - -Every now and again the singers would cease, when one of the soft -patches of white cloud got in front of the sun; for instantly the air -grew chilly, and a breeze started all the tree-tops to waving till the -birds had to hang on hard. - -Then the Lake would ruffle into tiny wave-lets and grow dark green like -the woods along the shore-line. For before, the water had lain as still -as a silver mirror, reflecting the pale blue of the warm sky. - -In weather like this, it was good just to lie still and watch and -listen, or drowse off with the sun warm on one's fur and the spicy earth -smells in one's nostrils. The green world was so interesting. - -When a passing cloud of a darker gray brought the big drops pattering -about them for a few minutes, they merely scampered under an -over-hanging boulder, where they huddled together on a drift of leaves, -and watched it all. - -Later, when the bull-frogs began their "Ke-dunk, ke-dunk," down under -the banks of Lone Lake, where the ducks were feeding their nestlings, -and the sun began to send long red beams slanting through the -tree-trunks, Fleet Foot led them down to a shallow cove for a taste of -lily pads, and they waded in and tried a nibble of everything she -tasted. - -After that came a night under a drooping pine tree, whose lowest branch -roofed over a boulder in the most inviting way, and the wind droned -through the branches and blew the mosquitoes all away, and they lay -snuggled warmly together on the fragrant needles, and watched the stars -come out. - -In the morning they were just starting out on an exploring tour when -they were alarmed by the baying of a hound. - -Now Lop Ear had always had an important duty at the Valley Farm. It had -been his part to round up the cows when night came, or when any of them -went astray in the woods. And all day yesterday he had missed Fleet Foot -from her stall in the hay-barn. - -True, she had always seemed different from the regular cows. Until she -came there with her broken leg, he had always supposed she belonged in -the woods. But surely, surely the Farmer would not have kept her there -unless she belonged there, reasoned the, faithful dog. And now she was -gone! - -There was but one thing to do: he must go in search of her and bring her -home. - -All that day he tried in vain to find her trail. The next morning he was -up with the sun. This time he would search farther afield. "Wow! -Bow-wow! Wow-wow-wow!" Here was a footprint, unless his nose deceived -him! What's more, they had passed that way not ten minutes since! It was -but a matter of following the trail, and he would be nipping at their -heels and driving them back to the Farm. - -"Wow-wow-wow!" he bayed; and Frisky, the Red Fox Pup, heard and came -trotting to peek at him and see what it was all about. - -The sound filled the fawns with uneasiness. They had always been afraid -of Lop Ear, with his nipping and yapping around the cattle. - -"Children," bade Fleet Foot sternly, "hurry to that clump of bracken and -lie down. Stretch your heads and fore legs out straight in front of you -and lie there as flat as you can make yourselves,--while I lead this -hound off somewhere where he'll lose your scent." - -The fawns obeyed instantly. - -Fleet Foot then doubled back on her trail, and with a stamp and a snort -to call the hound's attention, she soon had him following her great -bounds in quite the opposite direction. She kept just far enough ahead -of him to make sure he wouldn't give up the chase--though she could -easily have out-distanced him. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER V.--A SON OF THE WILD. - - -Now Frisky, the Red Fox Pup, admired no one so much as he did his -father. And he had heard his father tell how he had chased the doe and -her fawns that dreadful day when Fleet Foot broke her leg. - -Not that the little rascal really wanted to hurt those gentle soft-eyed -babies. He wasn't hungry, and besides, he couldn't have killed them had -he wanted to. He just thought it would be fun to play that he was Father -Red Fox and give them a good scare. (But how were the fawns to know -that?) In other words, like a great many very young persons, he didn't -stop to think of the other fellow's point of view in the matter. - -Thus, no sooner had he seen Fleet Foot headed in the other direction, -leaving the fawns unprotected, than he pranced merrily up to them, his -yellow eyes gleaming with mischief. - -"Yip, yip!" he yelled at them in his high-pitched little voice. - -Now the fawns had been told to lie still. But how could they, when -danger was almost upon them? They were certainly not going to lie there -and let this little wild dog bite them! - -With a bleat of alarm they sprang to their feet and raced through the -brush, leaping over bush and brier and boulder as if their very lives -depended on it. - -But Frisky Fox could also leap bush and brier and boulder. And he came -leaping after, just two jumps behind them! - -Now around a clump of greenbriar, down a trail of dainty pointed hoof -prints that led through brush head high,--up hill, down hill the trio -sped, startling the pheasants and sending them into the air with a -whirr. - -Here the trail turned abruptly down the side of a precipice, and the -fawns followed, while Frisky, having paused for a moment when his tail -got caught in a bramble, had to come trotting after with his nose to the -ground, as he could no longer see them. - -Now the fawns had never been taught that water carries no scent. They -just happened to go splashing across a bit of a frog pond that lay -cupped among hillocks of seedling pines. But looking back at every -seventh leap or so, they could see that the fox pup followed his nose to -the water's edge, and there stopped and sniffed all about uncertainly, -before again catching a glimpse of them. - -But though the chase went merrily on (that is, merrily on the fox's -part), the fawns had learned a valuable lesson. - -They now made straight for Lone Lake, and my! You should have seen the -ducks take flight as these two alarming little fellows came splashing in -among them! - -A deer, when pursued by hounds, will always take to water when he can, -and the hounds have no scent to follow. Then, unless there is a hunter -along, and he catches sight of his quarry, and fires, the deer are safe. - -The Red Fox Pup uses his eyes, as well as his nose, and he was so close -behind, and understood so well this trick of taking to water, (for he -escaped the hounds that way himself), that he wasn't fooled the least -little bit in the world. Not he! - -Only once they had taken the plunge, the little fellows decided to swim -out to a reedy islet where they could rest. And the fox pup didn't think -it worth while to get his fur wet. For when his great brush of a tail -gets wet, it is so heavy that it weighs him down, and he can't run -nearly so fast, so the mice all get away. - -Of course the fawns thought it was all their own cleverness, and you -should have heard them telling Fleet Foot about it when she found them -there! - -The fawns never tired of watching the life that stirred everywhere about -them, their great soft eyes filled with pleasant wonder. - -One day it would be the one soft cluck of Mother Grouse Hen, calling to -her chicks to hide before Frisky Fox should pass that way. - -When he had passed, looking so wise and knowing, (with his bright eyes -peering into every nook and corner, and his pointed little nose testing -the air for a taint), Mother Grouse Hen would give a different sort of -cluck; and back the frightened chicks would come to her, and she would -gather them comfortingly under her wings, pressing each wee brown baby -to her down-covered breast to reassure him. - -Then she would utter a soft, brooding cluck that told them how she loved -them, and how safe they were with Mother to look out for them. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER VI.--A STRANGE FRIENDSHIP. - - -What was the matter with the hen-roost at the Valley Farm, the fox pup -asked himself? He had killed so many field mice in the course of the -summer that he felt he was really entitled to one of the farmer's nice -fat hens,--because the mice might have destroyed the farmer's crops, had -Frisky not prevented. - -At the same time he knew that Lop Ear, the hound at the Valley Farm, -would have another opinion in the matter. - -Frisky sat up and thought. - -Lop Ear would give the alarm, and then, even if he threw the hound off -the scent, there would be men with guns, and more dodging of bullets -than he cared to risk. He had often seen it, watching from his hill-top -in the woods. And he always tried to profit by other people's -experience. - -Suddenly his bright eyes began to snap. The very idea! He would make -friends with Lop Ear. - -Then Lop Ear might try to be sound asleep on the night when Frisky -visited the chicken coop; and should the Hired Man get out his gun, the -hound would surely lose his trail. - -Thereafter, for days on end, Frisky made the strangest advances to the -dignified old hound, whenever the latter fared forth into the woods to -catch him a mouse for supper. It was very much like a puppy trying to -coax an old dog to play. - -"Come chase me!" Frisky would invite, dancing ahead just out of Lop -Ear's reach. Then, "I'll chase you," he would vary the program. And Lop -Ear (half unwillingly) played the role assigned him, till at last he -came to look on his evening ramble in the woods with Frisky as a -distinct part of his day's pleasuring. - -Not that Frisky ever came within reach of Lop Ear's jaws. No, indeed! -That was carrying the thing a bit too far. But he did finally get the -hound to the point where he no longer considered it his duty to try to -make an end of the young fox. And he really enjoyed their games of hide -and seek. - -The Boy from the Valley Farm did not know what to make of Lop Ear's -growing fondness for solitary rambles. - -One night, when the October moon gleamed cool and sparkling through the -fringe of fir trees, young Frisky Fox might have been seen loping softly -through the corn-field. - -"Who goes there?" bayed Lop Ear, as he leaped the barn-yard fence. - -"Come and play," coaxed Frisky. "You can't catch me!" and leaping up the -sloping roof of the hen-house, he squeezed gracefully through the barred -window. A moment more and there was a stifled squawk and Frisky squeezed -his way back through the bars, dragging a hen behind him. - -But alas for the best laid plans. - -"Bow-wow-wow! You can't do that, you know!" suddenly bayed Lop Ear. -"That's carrying the game a little too far. After all, I have my duty to -perform." - -"What is it?" yelled the Hired Man, poking his head from his -sleeping-room in the barn-loft. "A fox, eh?" and he grabbed for his gun, -leaning far out to scan the moonlit fields. - -Frisky Fox, by keeping the shed between himself and the gun, made off -through the corn-field with the hen across his shoulder. - -Lop Ear, his warning uttered, now dashed madly in quite the wrong -direction,--for the memory of the fox pup's friendship was strong upon -him. But the Hired Man was not to be fooled. - -In less time than it takes to tell it, he was out circling the field, -gun in hand. And the bright moonlight soon showed him where the -cornstalks rustled with Frisky's passing. - -"Hi, there!" yelled the Hired Man, gun in hand, as he raced around the -corn-field. - -But Frisky was an excellent judge of distance, and he knew to a -certainty that he was out of gun range. - -He therefore deliberately stopped where he was and snatched a bite of -his hen. - -As the Hired Man came nearer, the fox pup ran farther, always keeping -just about so much distance between himself and the gun. He could easily -have out-distanced his pursuer. But he was in a mischievous mood -to-night, and it pleased him to see how far he could go toward devouring -the entire hen while the angry man looked on. - -He did it, too, saucily enough, gobbling a bite here and a bite there, -looking back over his shoulder the while at the man with the gun. One or -two shots did ring out on the crisp night air, kicking up the dirt a few -rods behind him, but Frisky Fox ate on, secure by those few rods of -space, as well he knew. - -Only once did he miscalculate, the shot landing so near him that he knew -the next one would surely get him if the Hired Man tried again. - -Quick as a flash the clever rascal toppled over on his side, playing -dead. The ruse worked, for the Hired Man did not shoot again. And while -he was fumbling his way through the corn-field to where he believed the -fox lay waiting, Frisky was making for the woods with his nimble black -feet fairly twinkling over the ground. - -Throwing himself at last on the soft pine needles on a little hill-top, -he peered through the moonlight to where the Hired Man was staring -helplessly about him wondering where the dead fox lay. Frisky laughed -silently at the success of his ruse,--the first time he had ever played -'possum himself, though he had seen it done once before, when his mother -had been hard pressed. In her case she had actually let the boy pick her -up, when he found her with one foot in a trap. But to her surprise he -had only released her with pitying words and a caress on her silky red -head. - -No such treatment could be expected of the Hired Man, Frisky knew. - -Lop Ear, slinking back to the barn-yard with tail between his legs, was -just unlucky enough to catch the Hired Man's notice as the latter was -returning foxless. - -"Here," he ordered threateningly. "Put your nose to that trail and -follow it, or I'll show you what's what!" - -The next thing Frisky knew, he heard the baying of his one-time friend -close on his trail. With a yawn and a lick at his jaws, where a feather -still clung, he struck off as easily as if he had just arisen from a -sound night's sleep. - -He didn't even bother to keep very far ahead of the dog. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER VII.--A WIT OUT-WITTED. - - -Not that Frisky Fox believed greatly in Lop Ear's friendship. - -Not after the way the hound had given the alarm at the chicken coop! - -But he knew that at any moment he could so far outdistance that doubtful -ally that he wasn't in the slightest danger. The ground was firm and -dry, and he had all the advantage of his lighter weight and nimbler -feet. - -Had there been soft snow on the ground it might have been different. But -the first frost had not yet ripened the hazel nuts in the woods around -Mt. Olaf. - -Once, just to punish him, Frisky turned back and bared his teeth so -viciously at Lop Ear that the hound was driven back--to the Hired Man's -amazement. - -Then Frisky tripped his way down to Rapid River and crossed on the wet -brook stones, leaving no scent for Lop Ear to follow. - -The hound well off the trail, Frisky again crossed the stream farther up -on a fallen log. And circling around through the shadows, he was soon -following the Hired Man, slipping behind trees and boulders and smiling -from ear to ear as the latter stumbled along with his useless gun. - -When at last the hound stopped short at the river bank, where he lost -the scent, the Hired Man gave it up in disgust, and went back home to -his bed. - -And Frisky, the handsome little scoundrel, calmly sought out the dry -south side of a hill which would shelter him from the wind and slept -with his black legs doubled under him and his white-tipped brush of a -tail curled comfortably around him to keep out the draft. - -Shrewd, cautious, daring, the Red Fox Pup bade fair at this stage of his -career to develop the best set of brains in all the North Woods. - -Yet there was one at the Valley Farm that could out-wit him. - -Frisky was sitting on his haunches a few days later in the midst of the -now deserted hay field, listening for the squeak of a meadow mouse, when -something made him prick up his ears. - -There was something about that squeak that sounded just a wee bit -different from any squeak he had ever heard before. - -But no, there it was again, unmistakably the tiny voice of a mouse on -the other side of the field. The fox pup had such needle-sharp ears that -he could hear fainter sounds than any human being ever could have. - -But though Frisky Fox was clever, the Boy at the Valley Farm was more -so. And the Boy sat behind a bush at the farther end of the field, as -motionless as the gray stump that Frisky thought he was. This time the -joke was on the Red Fox Pup, for the squeaks he heard issued from the -Boy's pursed lips. It was an excellent imitation. - -He tip-toed nearer and nearer the tiny squeaks, while the Boy gazed at -the graceful fellow through his new field glasses. - -He was a handsome fellow, was Frisky Fox, with his yellow-red coat -shining sleek in the sunlight. And my! How his great plume of a tail -fluffed out behind him! His tail was nearly as long as the rest of his -body put together, and it fluffed out nearly as broadly. Mother Red Fox -certainly had a son to be proud of! - -Of a sudden a little breeze shifted around to where it brought the foxy -one a faint scent. It told his keen black nose there was something down -there besides the bush. - -It wasn't a mouse, either! - -"No, sir, that's no field mouse," said Frisky's nose, as the Red Fox Pup -circled to windward of the tiny squeaking sounds. - -"That's the Boy at the Valley Farm! That's what that is! Now I'll just -pretend not to see him at all till I get behind that rock, then I'll -race for the woods." - -For Frisky didn't know that the thing the Boy was pointing at him was -only a pair of field glasses. And it wouldn't have made much difference -even had he known. Frisky did not like to be watched. He therefore did -exactly as he had planned, crossing the field with seeming lack of -interest in anything save the purple and yellow of asters and golden-rod -and the scarlet of woodbine, and the blue of the Indian summer sky, till -he felt himself out of range. - -At the instant of his discovery that it was one of those dangerous human -creatures that sat there like a stump he had cocked his ears sharply and -leaped fully two feet into the air in his surprise. - -That was the only sign he made, however, of the extreme anxiety that set -his heart to thumping, till he was just on the edge of the woods; then -he suddenly looked back with one of his thin, husky barks, to know why -the Boy should have tried to fool him. - -But afterwards, from the shelter of the barberry vines that fringed the -old stone wall, he peered and peeked and wondered about it all as long -as the Boy remained. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER VIII.--STEEP TRAILS. - - -These hot days in August, when the trout took to the very deepest, -coldest pools they could find, and hid themselves all day under the -over-hanging rocks, and every creature that couldn't take to the water -longed for rain, Fleet Foot used to lead her little family up the steep -trails to the top of Mount Olaf or some near-by mountain-top, where the -wind blew cool night and day. - -These trips were full of much joy for the fawns, for there was all the -spice of adventure in following a winding hoof-path that led--they knew -not where. For one never knew what might be just around the next turn. - -How their hearts thumped when they came suddenly to the edge of a -precipice, where they could look down at Beaver Brook tumbling over the -rocks away, 'way down below I Or perhaps they could get just a glimpse -of Lone Lake lying gleaming in the hollow of the hills. - -Not that there was any trail in the real sense of the word. - -Left to themselves, they could not have told one rock from another, save -here and there where a bit of mica gleamed silver against the gray, or a -scraggly pine leaned too far out over a ledge to look safe. - -But to their mother their trail was as plain as the nose on your face. -It was just a matter of turning and twisting, here to pass between those -two queer-shaped boulders, and there to go around that flat rock which -teetered alarmingly beneath one's feet. She had been over it all so many -times that she had learned the look of each new turn of the pathway. Had -so much as one pinnacle been out of place, she would have known,--and -wondered why. - -One still, sunshiny morning, after they had drunk their fill at a cool -green pool of Beaver Brook, they started up the mountain-side for a day -under the shade of the last fringe of evergreens before one came to the -bare, rocky ridges, where it got too cold for anything to grow, except -in sheltered crevices. - -The fawns danced and capered to the music of the bird song that filled -the woods, while Fleet Foot cropped all sorts of delicious -tid-bits,--now a clump of oyster mushrooms growing shelf-like on a -fallen log, and now a bunch of blue-berries, plump and juicy and -sun-sweet. Life was one long holiday. - -One misty morning, as Fleet Foot was leading them in great bounds -through the tall meadow grass, the fawns came to a sudden stand-still, -their eyes popping with surprise. For they had just barely escaped -stepping on the writhing coils of a great long snake. - -Their bleat of fear brought Fleet Foot instantly. - -"Pouf! That's only a garter snake," she reassured them, with one glance -at the length-wise stripes (yellow and dark gray). "That's nothing to be -afraid of. The only kind you want to look out for is the kind with -cross-wisp stripes. I don't believe there is more than one snake in all -the North Woods that is poisonous,--and there are at least a dozen that -are perfectly harmless." - -"What is the poisonous one?" bleated the trembling fawns. - -"The rattler. But you won't see one of those in a year's time,--not in -these woods, where it gets so cold in winter. They love it hot and dry, -and so of course they live mostly out West, though you do find a few -sometimes among the rocks on the warm south side of a mountain." - -"Oo! What if we'd meet a rattler?" shivered the fawns. - -"Well, he'd warn you before you went too near." - -"Warn us?--How?" - -"He'd rattle, of course. He has a little set of bones on his tail that -he can rattle, and when you hear that, you need to look out, and get -away quickly." - -"Are the others really harmless, Mother?" - -"Harmless to fawns. That is, they have no poison bite. Snakes do a lot -of good, eating pests." - -"But I don't like snakes," insisted the tinier fawn. - -"Well, neither does Mother. But it's so silly, children, to be afraid. -Where is that garter snake? Gone, to be sure! And even the rattler only -strikes because he thinks you are going to kill him." - -The fawns were very thoughtful after that. "Mother," they finally -bleated, "Seems as if even the meanest creatures in the woods had _some_ -use." - -"That's right," their mother answered them. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER IX--THE OGRE OF THE AIR. - - -It was one of those breezy days when white wind clouds piled up against -the sky, and patches of shadow traveled across the mountain-sides. - -Fleet Foot had decided to take the fawns to Mountain Pond, in the pass -between Mount Olaf and Old Bald-face, a peak that had been burned bare -of trees by a forest fire, and now grew nothing much save blue-berries -for the bears to feast on. - -Fleet Foot wasn't a bit afraid of bears at this time of year, knowing -how greatly they prefer a vegetarian diet, though, at that, she didn't -intend to go too near. (After all, the steep gulch of Beaver Brook Bed -lay between the two mountain-sides.) - -They had a lovely time at the Pond, where they met several other does, -with their fawns, and the youngsters played together while their mothers -gossiped over their cuds. The cool breeze ruffled their fur -delightfully, and they found enough shade in the patch of woods that -huddled in the head of the gulch. - -As the sun neared the tops of the purple peaks that faded away to the -west, the little group started back down the trail to where there was -more herbage to browse upon, Fleet Foot lingering along to allow the -fawns plenty of time to pick out a sure footing. For it was their first -trip over this particular trail. - -Carefully they wound over a great over-hanging boulder, on the edge of -which they paused to peer, with braced hoofs, over the precipice, which -here dropped sheer to the rocks below. Just beyond, the first falls of -Beaver Brook dashed green-white over the ledges. - -Then Fleet Foot hurried on to the foot of the falls, where one might -take a shower bath in the spray. - -"Come on, children," she whistled over her shoulder, her eyes on the -path ahead. And the tinkle of the falling water filled her ears till she -could not have heard their foot-steps following, had she tried. - -But fawns will be fawns. And the youngsters stopped to watch a queer -shadow that now danced across their path. Cloud shadows they had watched -all day, but this one was different. In the first place, it was such a -tiny thing,--for a cloud. And it danced about in the most amusing -manner,--much faster than any cloud shadow they had seen before. In -fact, it seemed to be going around and around them in big circles. And -it looked exactly as if the little cloud had wings like a bird. - -Alas for two such little helpless ones!--Had they but looked above their -heads, instead of at the circling shadow, they would have discovered -that it was a giant bird that made it. In short, it was Baldy the Eagle, -the ogre of the air,--and an ogre that especially delighted in having -fawn for supper! - -An ugly fellow was Baldy, with his great curved beak and his great -yellow claws. His body alone was bigger than that of the fawns, and his -wings spread out like the wings of an aeroplane. He was mostly a muddy -brown, with white head and fan-spread tail, and he smelled horribly -fishy, for he isn't a bit particular about what he eats, and frequently -stuffs himself so full of the spoiled fish he finds on the shore that he -can't even fly. - -The air hissed to his wings. - -He waited now till he felt that Fleet Foot was surely too far away to -come to their rescue, should he attack the fawns. For he knew from -experience that with her sharp hoofs she could put up a fight he would -rather not face. - -For a while he wandered if he should just simply drop down upon one of -the little fellows and pin his talons into his back, and fly away to his -nest. But it would be awfully heavy to carry and of course it would kick -and wriggle, 'till like enough he would be unable to manage his -feathered aeroplane, and they would run into some jagged rock. - -If the fawns had been orphans, he might have killed one right there, and -no one would have interfered. - -But they were not orphans, and their mother would come racing back and -cut him to pieces with those knife-edged fore-hoofs. - -Ha! An idea popped into his ugly old head.--He would scare one of the -fawns off the edge of the precipice, and it would leap to its death on -the rocks below; and then he could wait till Fleet Foot had gone, for -his feast. - -Swooping lower and lower, while still the foolish fawns stared -innocently at the dancing shadow, he suddenly flapped his wings about -the tinier fawn, startling him terribly, but not enough to make him back -off the cliff. - -Stronger measures must be tried,--and there was no time to waste; for at -the fawn's first bleat of terror, Fleet Foot heard and was now leaping -like the wind, back the trail to his rescue. - -Swooping again, Baldy began beating the little fellow with great heavy -blows of his middle wing joints. It hurt dreadfully, and the frightened -fawn turned first this way, then that, in his endeavor to get away. -Nearer and nearer the edge of the precipice he crowded. Now one hind -foot had actually slipped off the rock face, and he had to struggle to -regain his balance. - -Then the one thing happened that could have saved him. Fleet Foot -reached the spot. Rearing furiously on her hind legs, she struck at -Baldy's head with her sharp hoofs, tearing great wounds in his scalp. -Then, with a scream of rage and pain, he raised his wings and slanted -swiftly upward, wings hissing, to his granite peak. - -The fawn was not seriously hurt,--only terribly frightened. His back was -bruised, but that would heal, and he would be none the worse for his -experience. - -But where was the other fawn?--They found him wedged in between the -boulders,--the one place where he could ever have escaped the beat of -those wings. Fleet Foot praised him mightily for having so much sense, -and he felt quite cocky,--though of course his brother was the real hero -of the day. - -One other danger marred their summer. - -Every now and again, as they were passing beneath some low-hanging -branch, they would catch a glimpse of a tawny form flattened along the -limb, watching them with pale yellow eyes that gleamed through narrowed -lids. - -Perhaps it would be in a deep, dark hemlock thicket, or a cedar swamp, -that they would meet the giant cat. - -He was a ferocious-looking fellow, was Old Man Lynx, with his great, -square, whiskered face, and his ears with their black tassels and the -black stripe down the middle of his back. And my, how his claws crunched -the bark as he sharpened them! How his whiskers twitched and his mouth -watered as the fawns passed beneath him! He seemed all teeth and claws. - -Perhaps the little family would be drowsing peacefully in the shade of a -long September afternoon when suddenly some spirit of their ancestors, -(or was it some guardian angel of their antlered tribe?) would whisper -"Danger!" and set their fur to rising along their spines in a cold -shiver of nameless fear. - -Had Old Man Lynx ever really put it to the test, he could have won out -with Fleet Foot. But he knew the sharp drive of her little hoofs, and he -was terribly afraid of pain. (Did he not wear a great scar in his side, -due to an adventure of his rash young days, when a fat buck had given -him a rip with his antlers?) - -Perhaps that was why Fleet Foot always raced away in a wide curve that -presently brought her back to where she could peer curiously at the -invader of her solitude, without herself being seen. - -She used to spy in the same way on Old Man Red Fox, and Frisky, his -promising young hopeful. - -In fact, what with Frisky spying on the fawns, and the fawns watching -Frisky, these children of hostile tribes kept pretty close track of one -another. - -The summer passed on the whole, however, with no more adventure than the -sound of the lonely "Hoo-woo-o-o-o" of a loon at twilight, or the sudden -whirr of a startled pheasant's wings, or a quarrel between some wicked -red squirrel caught robbing a crow's nest. (Or was it a crow that had -robbed the squirrel's little hoard, and was getting handsomely scolded -for his villainy?). - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER X.--WILD GRAPES. - - -It had been one of those cool, crisp days when the sun shone just warm -enough to feel good to the furred and feathered folk. Frisky, the Red -Fox Pup, had been creeping up on a flying squirrel, who sat nibbling the -ripe berries of the Solomon's Seal with her three little ones beside -her, when the entire family took alarm and went leaping back to the -beech-nut tree. - -Now Frisky had not reached the age of six whole months in vain. He had -sharp eyes, and he used them. And he had never seen a squirrel that -could spread sail like that. He felt that his eyes must have deceived -him. - -He forgot his surprise at the very next turn of the trail, when he -suddenly spied a tangle of wild grape vine that hung in a canopy of the -luscious purple clusters over the stag-horn sumac. - -Frisky Fox had never seen wild grapes before, though he had often passed -the vines when the fruit was green. Now his keen little nose told him -enough to make him eager for a taste. - -But the fruit hung just too high. Leaping into the air, he occasionally -got a nibble from the low-hanging bunches. But these only served to whet -his appetite for more. - -To add to his discontent, Fairy the Flying Squirrel suddenly sailed down -from a tree-top, alighting on the very top of the grapevine canopy. And -there she perched saucily and munched and sucked at grape after grape -before his very eyes. - -This was too much for Frisky. Around and around the vines he circled, -screwing up his courage for a leap. - -He finally discovered a place where the vine hugged a slanting tree -trunk, and he climbed as far as he could. - -The next instant Fairy had sailed back to her branch as easily as if she -had been laughing at him. But Frisky didn't mind that. It would take -just a stretch of his neck and his jaws would close on a great cluster -of the fragrant fruit. - -If young Frisky Fox had only been content with that one taste, all might -have been well. But just beyond was a larger bunch. Frisky gave a leap, -landing on his tip-toes on crossed vines. But the vines parted beneath -his weight, and down he plunged--almost to the ground, but not quite. -Not far enough for a foot-hold. - -And there he hung, head downward, hind legs tangled in the vines, unable -to better his position! - -My, how he writhed and squirmed, and bit at the vine that shackled him! -But to no avail! He was a prisoner, just as surely as if he had been -tied with a rope. Little his brains availed him now. - -If any one had asked young Frisky Fox, as he hung head downward from -that grapevine, what he thought of the situation, he would have said it -couldn't be worse. - -Yet it speedily became worse,--so much worse, indeed, that Frisky -redoubled his efforts to free himself,--though he had an awful feeling -that it was no use. - -It was Tattle-tale the Jay who warned him. - -Tattle-tale kept pretty close track of all that went on in the forest, -and then told all he knew. - -So many times had he flown ahead of Frisky Fox, screaming at the top of -his lungs: "A Fox! A Fox! Beware!" that Frisky had come to dread the -sound of his voice. - -This time Tattle-tale, who played no favorites, was doing Frisky a good -turn, but the little fox was in no position to appreciate the fact. - -"Look out, there! Look out, everybody," Tattle-tale was screaming. "Old -Man Lynx is coming!" - -"Old Man Lynx!" squeaked Shadow Tail, the Red Squirrel, making for his -hole in the oak tree. - -"OLD MAN LYNX, Mammy, Old Man Lynx!" squealed Timothy Cottontail, -hopping madly for a hollow log. - -"Old Man Lynx!" grunted Unk-Wunk, the Porcupine. "A lot I care!" And he -rolled himself up into a prickly ball in the top of a swaying birch -tree. - -"Old Man Lynx!" thought Frisky Fox, fairly beside himself with frenzy. -Hanging there heels uppermost in the grapevine, he was as helpless as a -mouse in a trap. And here was the great cat, his ancient enemy, -creeping, creeping, creeping through the shadows, his nose sniffing this -way and that for the scent that would tell him where to find a good -supper. - -Another moment and out of the tail of his eye he saw the great, heavy, -bob-tailed cat, with his cruel face, squared off with a fringe of -whiskers that framed his chin, and sharp ears tasseled with little tufts -of fur at their tips. - -The yellow eyes gleamed evilly as Old Man Lynx caught sight of Frisky -hanging there so helplessly, and his grizzled gray-brown fur rose along -his spine. - -Now he was wriggling along the ground flattened out like a snake. Now he -was creeping up the tree trunk as silently as a shadow, and now he was -gathering his legs beneath him for the leap that would land him squarely -on Frisky Fox. - -Frisky knew that one crunch of those gleaming teeth would end it all, so -far as the Red Fox Pup was concerned. - -But Frisky had a trick up his sleeve. His wits were still in working -order. - -"What a pity!" sighed Shadow Tail, the Red Squirrel, as he peered from -his hole in the oak tree. - -For Old Man Lynx had no objection what-ever to having fox for supper. -The only objection he had to foxes was that he could never catch one. - -For to look at poor Frisky Fox, his red-brown fur still soft and silky, -his black feet tapering so delicately and his white throat exposed, it -didn't seem as if he had a show in the world of escaping the huge cat. - -But Old Man Lynx was stupid. He had nothing but his powerful muscles and -his murderous teeth and claws, whereas Frisky had the nimble wit of one -who lives by being both hunter and hunted. - -And even as he waited for the leap for which he saw the Lynx preparing, -he thought of a way out of both the grapevine and the danger he was in. - -The next instant the Old Man gave one of his blood-curdling screeches, -by which he so often paralyzed his prey with fright. Then he dropped to -the branch just above, claws out for Frisky Fox. - -But the very instant his heavy form touched the tangled vines, they gave -way beneath him, and he, too, went crashing down in a net-work that held -him fast. And, what's more, his huge weight loosed the vines that held -Frisky prisoner. - -But wait! With his great steel claws the giant cat wrenched himself -free. Frisky made for a clump of greenbriar, for his leg had gone to -sleep, and he couldn't run right till it had had time to wake up. - -Was Old Man Lynx to get him after all? - -There was only one reason why he didn't--he had no great fondness for -brambles. Cats, wild and tame, are mighty fond of their own skins, and -Old Man Lynx was no exception. He'd have to be mighty hungry before he'd -either scratch his fur out or get it wet. - -While Old Man Lynx thought it over, Frisky Fox was certainly not -standing still. Not Frisky! He was struggling so hard to tear himself -free that the brambles were all trimmed up with little tufts of his -tawny coat. - -That the gray form crouched so near him meant to spring he could easily -guess, and his heart thumped so loudly in his furry chest that he could -hardly breathe. Eyes straining wide with fright, as he tugged this way -and that, (for he was really caught fast again), he suffered far more -from terror than from the pain of the brambles. His leg was awake now, -and with one last twinge he wrenched himself loose. - -At the same instant the great gray cat launched itself almost upon him. - -But Frisky was too quick for it. By the time Old Man Lynx had reached -the spot, Frisky was tearing down the slope. - -Now lynxes have poor eyesight. Following their nose is their one best -guide. Of this Frisky was aware, as his mother had told him so. - -He could hear the great cat scrambling after him at a terrific pace. But -he was going too fast to try any dodges, for one stumble and the other -would be upon him. If it had been Mother Red Fox, she could have laughed -at her pursuer. But Frisky was only a pup, remember, and his short legs -had all they could do to keep ahead of such a big fellow. - -Just as he was beginning to wonder how long this would keep up, he -recalled something else his mother had taught him. Lynxes cannot swim. -At least, they won't. The river was just off to the left, and with a -quick turn and a sidewise leap that might or might not throw the Old Man -off his scent, he dashed for the water. - -On the very brink of the moonlit current, he suddenly remembered one -thing more. The last time he had tried that swim he had let his tail get -so wet and heavy that he had only reached the other bank by hanging on -to his father's brush. Now there was no one to tow him. Should he risk -it, or was he safer where he was? - -To cross or not to cross, that was the question before him. - -If he trusted his fate to the current, he might drown. And if he -remained on the same side with Old Man Lynx, he might meet another fate. - -There was but a heart's beat to decide. - -Ah! What was that dark object just upstream? Could it be a log? What -luck! Frisky veered to the right, his long agile leaps once more -outdistancing the merciless form behind him. - -He reached the log. Alas, it reached only half way across! But he raced -that half. Then one of his powerful forward leaps and he had landed -within easy swimming distance of the other shore! - -Old Man Lynx stood raging on the bank he had left, afraid to risk it. -His disappointed screech sent shivers along Frisky's spine, but he knew -he was safe. - -Pup-like, no sooner was his mind relieved of worry than he burrowed into -an old gopher hole and fell fast asleep. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER XI.--SPECKLED TROUT. - - -The still warmth of Indian summer passed, with its dreamy days and its -crisp nights ablaze with twinkling stars. - -And Fleet Foot left the fawns to shift more and more for -themselves,--though they still followed her about. At first they were -puzzled and a little hurt by her growing indifference. Then, as they -began to feel the strength of their coming buck-hood, they began to -enjoy their taste of freedom. - -Indeed, the little rascals even began to watch the bucks, (their big -cousins and uncles), who were returning in little bands from their -summer's wanderings. Someday they, too, would have those lordly antlers, -and they, too, could join their bachelor explorations, while the does -and younger fawns remained safely behind in the low-lands. - -Now no longer could they hear Vesper Sparrow trilling in the meadows and -locusts twanging in the tree-tops. The brook beds were drying, 'and the -deer now pastured along the sedgy shore-line of Lone Lake or splashed -knee-deep in the shallows, while here and there the scarlet of a maple -told of approaching winter. - -No longer did the gabbling of countless ducks fill their ears when the -pink sunsets tinted the Lake. Instead, there were many V-shaped flocks -constantly migrating to the Southland, where the waters would not -freeze. - -Now it was that the speckled trout, whom all summer long they had -watched flashing silvery through the shallows, began putting on their -coats of many colors.--At least the bride-grooms did. The prospective -brides remained a quiet brown, for reasons the fawns were soon to learn. -(For October is the month when trout start housekeeping together.) - -In the early summer the fawns had watched these same finny fellows -racing and leaping up the water-falls to the rapids. With the long, hot -days, they had taken to the deep, shadowy pools--those watery caverns -that afford such peaceful coolness everywhere along Beaver Brook. - -Now as the woods turned red and gold, the trout changed their cream -colored vests to the most vivid orange, which looked gay enough with -their red and white fins. - -Their coats were still olive-green, mottled with darker splotches, and -on their sides the green melted into yellow, with the little red spots -and speckles that give the trout their name. - -Their thousands of tiny scales were like suits of mail,--which came in -very handy when they fought, as you shall see. - -Now the fawns noticed that the larger and brighter colored fish were -prospecting around in the shallows, where the water ran fastest, -shoveling the gravel about with their bony noses, aided by their tails. -Each trout soon had a little nest scooped out in the stream bed, and -over it he stood guard, (or perhaps we ought to say swam guard), -defending his homestead against all comers. - -Sometimes a larger trout would come by and try to steal the nest of a -smaller fish; and then what a fight they had! How they butted each other -about, ramming each other's soft sides, and even, at times, biting each -other on the lip. It must have hurt dreadfully, because each trout had a -mouthful of the sharpest teeth, that turned backward, so that when they -caught a worm he was hooked as surely as he would be on the end of a -fish-line. - -In trout-land, you know, it is the father of the family that makes the -nest. He it is who wears the gayest clothing, too,--because if the -mother were too bright colored, her enemies could see her on her nest. - -Once the nests were ready the mother trout came swimming upstream and -promptly set to work filling them with leathery yellow-brown eggs, which -they covered with gravel so that no pike or other cannibal of the -river's bottom could find and make a breakfast off of them. - -The fawns marveled as they watched, day after day, till at last the -trout all went back into deep water for the winter, leaving the eggs -behind them. And Fleet Foot explained how, next spring, each leathery -brown egg that had escaped the cannibal fish and the muskrats would be -burst open by the baby trout inside, and out would wiggle the teeniest, -weeniest troutlet you can possibly imagine! - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER XII.--THE VICTOR. - - -One evening when the frost lay glittering in the moonlight, the fawns -were suddenly awakened, in their soft beds of drifted leaves, by a loud -belling down on the lake shore; and wide-eyed, they tip-toed down to see -what it meant. - -There on the muddy beach--stamped with long lines of little cloven hoof -prints--stood a handsome buck, with polished antlers, dancing about as -if too full of energy to stand still. - -Now the fawns had never seen their father, for he had been killed by a -hunter. And the other bucks of the herd had been rambling about all -summer 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 woods -pranced another buck, belling a saucy challenge to a fight. Fleet Foot -withdrew to a safe distance, as did the fawns, and watched admiringly as -the 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 antlered -heads in the pride of their strength, the two bucks bellowed their -battle 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 either -of 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 first -buck gave a shrill snort of defiance. - -Straightway the pair began dancing a sort of war-dance around each -other. 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 opposite -side of the lake,--a couple of yearling bucks with proud spikes of horns -and three with two-pronged antlers. - -Around and around the two combatants tip-toed, heads flung back, chins -in air. Then they lowered their antlers like shields, and Fleet Foot's -champion 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, antlers -against antlers. Their sharp hoofs fairly ploughed the ground as they -strove and struggled and pushed each other about, the very whites of -their eyes showing in their rage. - -"There's ginger for you!" thought the fawns. - -Now the fighting pair were shouldering each other about roughly with -their horns, lips foaming, gasping for breath,--almost locking horns in -a butting match. At last the first buck lifted his knife-edged forelegs -and 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 had -had enough. - -The victor now turned for the look of admiration he felt he ought to -find in Fleet Foot's eyes. But instead, he barely caught a glimpse of -her dancing away through the thicket, with just one merry backward -glance to see if he would race her. - -But he knew where to follow; for there was the faintest, loveliest -perfume on the air where she had passed. - -The fawns gazed after the pair, as they disappeared, then found -themselves alone. All that month, while the woods turned from scarlet -and yellow to brown and gray, and the nights grew frosty under the -stars, the fawns were left very much to their own devices. But they were -well capable of looking out for themselves at this time of year, for -they found a beech wood and began fattening on the beech nuts against -the increasing chill. - -Their coats were changing from tawny red to bluish gray, and their fur -thickening to keep a layer of warm air next their skins. There were -coarser hairs growing out as well, that helped to shed the rain. Their -new fur glistened in the sunshine, and the fawns raced and hurdled in -the keen air, and took running high jumps to work off their surplus -energy. - -Then Fleet Foot and the winning buck returned, and with them came two of -the young bucks who had watched the battle. The six ranged happily from -cranberry bog to evergreen swamp, feasting, feasting, feasting on -mosses, lichens, anything and everything that grew, till their sides -rounded with their winter plumpness, and a layer of warm fat lay just -underneath their skins. - -But with the first powdering of snow came a new danger. The hunting -season had opened, and to the huntsman our little family meant merely a -few pounds of venison for his table, and the pride of a pair of antlers -to hang his gun upon. - -To the buck, however, one little bullet might in an instant rob him of -life and the keen joy of his airy speed, and all the glad wonderful -world 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's -thunder stick, he led his little herd to a distant cedar swamp, where -they were soon joined by other groups as nervous as themselves at this -new 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 his -life.--And sometimes he never came back! But Fleet Foot and her five -pulled 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 active -preparations for the on-coming winter. Already there were chill, drizzly -days when all the world looked gray. - -The former rivals now chewed their cuds together as peacefully as you -please, the bucks sleeping on one side of the thicket, the does and -their fawns on the other. - -Then came a big surprise for the fawns. - -It was a surprise for the Red Fox Pup as well. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER XIII.--THE QUEER FEATHERS. - - -Frisky, the Red Fox Pup, had learned many lessons since the day he so -nearly hanged himself in the wild grape-vines. - -There was the day of the first snow, for instance. - -Awakening one morning, cramped and chilled because he had not lined his -bed deeply enough with leaves to keep off the cold, he peered from his -little den on the hillside with wide eyes. - -The air seemed filled, as far as he could see, with tiny white feathers, -and the ground was covered with them. - -He peered this way and that, wondering what kind of birds they could be -whose plumage was being shed so freely. It must be a flock large enough -to cover the whole sky, he decided, mystified. - -He crept stealthily from the den, afraid, because he did not understand. - -The instant his black feet touched the cold stuff, he leaped high into -the air, with a yip of fright and amazement. But when he opened his -mouth he got a taste of the falling flakes. - -"Ha!" he said to himself, "that accounts for it. It is just rain turned -white." - -Still, he crept warily down to Pollywog Pond for his breakfast, stepping -high, because he hated wet feet. - -Arrived at the pond he stopped for a drink, when his lapping tongue came -plump against a film of something hard and shining that seemed to cover -the water. What could it be, he asked himself, lapping up a mouthful of -the snow-flakes to ease his thirst. (He wisely held them in his mouth -till they had melted, for fear of chilling his stomach.) - -It was certainly very queer. Now the very trees were beginning to be -outlined in white. It made the world look quite a different place. - -As for the deer, they took to a thicket of poplar, birch and spruce, on -which they could feed when the snow lay deep. - -There was one other to whom winter brought a change and that was Old Man -Lynx. - -Now it is very, very seldom that good luck falls right at one's feet -undeserved. - -So Old Man Lynx warned himself when he came upon the muskrat in the -trap. - -Of course the giant cat did not know it was a trap, as he circled around -and around the struggling rat. His green eyes gleamed hungrily in his -tawny face, and he crouched so close to the snow crust that his whiskers -dragged on the ground. His tasseled ears twitched nervously, his stubby -tail thrashed the earth and his claws were bared in a fringe across the -great awkward paws, as he crept nearer and nearer the struggling bait. - -To the nostrils of the cat tribe the musky smell of the water-rat is -most tempting, and his mouth watered till he licked his jaws at thought -of the feast within such easy reach. - -And yet--and yet--some spirit of the wild--some instinct of the dumb -brute who must fight to live--seemed to warn him that where man had -been, there would be trouble for him. And he circled his prey without -quite daring to close in upon it and end its squeaking protest. - -Now the Hired Man at the Valley Farm had not meant the trap for Old Man -Lynx. He had placed it there on the bare chance of there being a wolf at -large in the forest around Mount Olaf. - -As the midwinter dawn deepened from salmon to rose, and the snow began -to glitter in the sun's first rays, Old Man Lynx decided that the thing -was altogether too mysterious to be wholesome. Instead, he trotted down -to Lone Lake, where muskrats were supposed to be. And he promised -himself that even were it too late in the day to catch a rat, he could -at least afford the pleasure of sniffing at the chimneys to their round -houses,--those air-holes in the top, where their musky breath steamed -out, while the rats themselves lay snug and warm within. - -Then, suddenly, just as Old Man Lynx was passing a snow-laden clump of -spruces, he caught a little movement in their lower branches. Circling -till he had the ribbon of the wind in his nostrils, he discovered that -it was a covey of grouse. - -Grouse! How infinitely more delicious than muskrat--more tender even -than rabbit! Now indeed he was glad he had saved his appetite. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER XIV--STARVATION TIME - - -Fleet Foot, the Doe, would never have dreamed of taking her fawns down -to the hay-stack at the Valley Farm, had not the Farmer and his Boy set -her leg the summer before, and gained her confidence by their kindness. - -But, though the herd had selected a south-west slope where the feeding -was good, and though they had trampled the snow till it raised them -higher and higher, and they could browse on the limbs of the fir trees, -it was proving a cruel winter. As blizzard followed blizzard, and bark -and browse alike were frozen stiff, they huddled together, weak with -hunger. - -Then the thought of the big hay-mow provided for the sheep and cattle -proved too much for Fleet Foot, and she resolved to take the fawns, (now -well grown,) slip down under cover of the early winter dusk, and there -help herself to the few mouthfuls she could reach through the bars. For -part of the hay stood in the open meadow, with only a canvas over top to -keep 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 too -timid to make the venture with her. To them it seemed a perilous -undertaking to go so near human-kind. For they had seen many things in -the woods. They had seen the Hired Man with his long black stick that -spoke like thunder, and killed more surely than tooth or claw. They -preferred to starve! - -For Fleet Foot, the dangers of traveling alone with the fawns through -the winter woods were many. First there was the chance of meeting Old -Man Lynx. For now they would not have the protection of the hoofs and -horns of the herd. - -Then they might get lost and freeze, should another storm catch them far -from the herd-yard. But, once having made up her mind, Fleet Foot -whistled to the fawns and started off in a series of long, graceful -bounds 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 that -promised a few mouthfuls of supper, for their empty stomachs fairly -hurt. And if it had been freezing in the herd-yard, with its wall of -snow, and the crowding bodies that helped keep each other warm, imagine -how cold Fleet Foot's little family must have been, out on the open -hill-top! The savage wind and the snow-filled air made it all but -impossible at times to draw breath. - -But worst of all was the shadow of fear that never left the doe's -anxious mother heart. The tree-trunks crackled alarmingly with the -frost, keeping her alert for enemies, and the wind tore savagely through -the brush. Of a sudden Fleet Foot's spine began to prickle! It was one -of 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 the -green-black of the darkness. But they marked their path by the darker -blackness of the clumps of spruce trees, which to their trained instinct -pointed the way like a map. - -Again a chill ran down their spine and the hair raised along the backs -of their necks! Some instinct told them real danger was near--what -danger, 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 that -of a hound, only wilder and more terrifying. Then came another, and a -third. It was an uncanny sound, that of the three gray wolves, watching -from behind the snowy evergreens. - -Fleet Foot knew, more by instinct than experience, what they were, for -their like she had never seen before. Nor had any one in those woods -known a winter when these ravenous beasts had come down out of the -Canadian wilds. But it had been handed down from grand-sire to grand-son -that once, when the snows were uncommonly deep, and half the wild folk -starved and frozen, wolves had come down from the far North in search of -prey. - -There were three of the lean gray shapes, like collie dogs, yet so much -larger and fiercer--large enough to attack even bigger game than Fleet -Foot, the doe. - -Should worst come to worst, she would have no more chance with even one -such foe than a rabbit with a hound. It would all be a matter of which -could 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 a -time, outspeed their enemies, if their strength held out. The combined -hoofs and antlers of the herd might have fought off the beasts for a -time, but the herd-yard was now too far away for Fleet Foot ever to -reach it with the fawns before those lean gray shapes would be at their -throats. The Valley Farm lay straight ahead, and her fear of man shrank -to nothing beside the terrors behind her. - -Yes, the one hope on the horizon lay at the Valley Farm, where the fear -of 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 slip -in the darkness, crippling them and leaving them helpless almost within -sight of safety? - -On and on they ran, and behind them through the forest crept the three -gray shapes, slinking along like shadows with glowing coals for eyes. -Every now and again their barking howl, long drawn out and fearful, tore -the darkness. Could they reach the Valley Farm, Fleet Foot asked herself -with pounding heart? - -It was hard going through the powdery snow, into which she sank -dangerously every time she came to a drift too wide to leap. And the -fawns 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 the -farmhouse. A few more bursts of speed would get them over the fence and -into the pasture lot, and perhaps the wolves would stop at the boundary -of man's domain. But--could they make it? Could they reach that fence -before their grim pursuers? - -Their eyes were fairly popping with the effort they were making. Here -was a mammoth drift that in summer had been a creek, and there a patch -of the higher wind-swept ground where the ice might take their hoofs -from under them. - -Ah! The fence at last! One leap over its smooth pyramid, and with a -sobbing cough, Fleet Foot and the fawns were safe, with the wolves not -ten paces behind! - -Then, suddenly, the door at the farmhouse opened, throwing a long streak -of lamp-light across the snow! - -The wolves slunk back in fear. But so, too, did Fleet Foot. The terror -of the great gray beasts behind her, all her old fear of man flooded -back 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 made -the darkness blacker. What could be its meaning? Curiosity might, at -another time, have conquered fear, but now she was trembling in every -joint, her spent lungs wheezing with the effort she had made. This was -far different from slipping in under cover of darkness as she had -planned. - -"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 the -open 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 his -gun. But at the Boy's sharp command he dropped it, shame-faced. - -Then from farther back in the evergreens came the spine-chilling howl of -the gray wolves, baying their lost prey. - -"Wolves, my son!" exclaimed the Farmer, joining the group in the -doorway. "Wolves from Canada. It's a hard winter that has brought them -down. I don't remember seeing wolves since I was a little shaver, forty -years 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't -frighten them away, or the wolves will get them, sure." - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER XV.--THE GRAY WOLVES. - - -"That's what I heard," exclaimed the Boy at the Valley Farm. "Wolves! -Imagine! I didn't suppose they ever came into these woods." - -"It's been an unusual winter," his father assured him, stepping out into -the snowy barn-yard. "I saw them once when I was ten years old. But I -thought they had been driven away for good. I suppose the rabbits all -froze, up where they come from, and they got so starved they were driven -to it. They've certainly been chasing these deer." - -For as their eyes became accustomed to the snowy darkness, they could -once more see the shadowy forms of Fleet Foot and the fawns by the -hay-mow. - -"It must have been those wolves that I heard ten minutes back," said the -Farmer, rubbing his unmittened hands together. - -"Just see how hollow these poor things look!" exclaimed the Boy. "They -must be starving. Let's go back inside, so they won't be afraid." - -They met the Hired Man just starting forth with his gun. "I'm going for -those wolves," he hastened to explain. - -"That's more like it," said the Farmer. - -Here they were at last, beside the hay-stack, Fleet Foot and her fawns. -And as three disappointed howls arose from the woods at their back, the -famished deer turned to snatch their first ravenous mouthfuls from -between the bars of the crib. They paused in their banquet only long -enough to stare at the Hired Man, as with snow-shoes strapped to his -feet, he strode down the Old Logging Road,--Lop Ear, the Hound, at his -heels. - -"Who-o-o-o!" howled the three gray wolves from the blackness of the -woods. The Hired Man raised his thunder-stick and fired--straight -between a pair of the red eyes that gleamed at him through the night. - -"Yoo-o-o-o!" screamed one of the wolves, as he fell, while the cries of -the other two retreated into the forest. And Whoo Lee, the great barred -owl, could have told you that they carried their tails between their -legs. Their weird voices faded rapidly into the depths of the woods; for -wolves travel fast on their round, furry feet, which spread out beneath -them like round snow-shoes. - -The Hired Man strode on down the Old Logging Road past the charred -trunks which the forest fire had swept,--standing like white ghosts now -in their snowy mantles,--and on nearly to Lone Lake. But never a sign of -the gleaming eyes of the two remaining wolves could he see, though his -ears shuddered at the weird howls that rang down the wind, and Lop Ear -bristled and growled. - -Fleet Foot and the starving fawns nibbled and nibbled at the -hay-mow,--for the time, at least, safe and happy. But could they ever -get back to the herd-yard, with those wolves still at large? - -For once they were in luck. The Hired Man was not the only hunter who -followed the wolves that night. Old Man Lynx, that fierce, furry fellow -with tassels on his ears and claws that could rend like steel hooks, had -also been driven down to the Valley by the winter's famine. He, too, -heard the howling of the wolves. - -He heard the piercing scream of the wolf the Hired Man had shot, and he -knew what it meant. The lynx was hungry, for the storms had lasted many -days, and the rabbits and grouse hens hid away where he could not find -them. On his own wide, spreading paws, therefore, he set out over the -snow to find the wolf that had fallen. His heart was glad at the -unexpected feast in store, and he whined hungrily under his breath. - -Every now and again he had to pause to bite off the icy balls that had -formed under his warm feet. But before ever the Hired Man had turned -back from Lone Lake, Old Man Lynx was peering and sniffing at the wolf -that lay dead. - -One thing he did not know, though. No sooner had the two remaining -wolves raced to Lone Lake, with their tails between their legs, and the -roar of the thunder-stick in their ears, than it occurred to them that -they were still ravenously hungry. And the one that had fallen would go -far toward easing that terrible emptiness that drew their sides together -and made them desperate. (For wolves are cannibals!) - -So, back the horrid beasts came, running on their furry snow-shoes--back -down the wind, which told the noses of these great wild dogs as plainly -as words that Old Man Lynx was there before them. - -"Who-o-o-o," they howled wrathfully, speeding back through the -burnt-wood, over whose ghost-like trunks they leapt in the darkness so -fast that no Hired Man could have shot them had he tried. - -Old Man Lynx raised his whiskered face and yowled an answering -challenge. - -"Ye-ow-w-w!" he screamed at them defiantly. Then he bent his head to -snatch another mouthful of the meat he knew the wolves were on their way -to claim. - -"Ye-ow-w-w!" he screamed again, as the wolf cry swept nearer. This time -he saw two pairs of red eyes gleaming in the darkness. - -"I got here first, and I'll make it hot for the first one that comes -within reach of my claws," he warned them, in tones they understood -without words. - -"We are two to your one!" they answered him. - -Little did Old Man Lynx imagine that he had an ally so near. To him it -was merely a case of having found a meal in the wolf the Hired Man had -shot, and of having the rest of the pack demand it of him. So the giant -cat took his stand, with claws outspread over the prize, his savage face -tense with hate. His green eyes blazed at them through the darkness. - -The cowardly wolves paused just out of reach, neither one of them quite -daring to begin the attack, yet willing to fall in, should the other go -first, for both were wild with hunger. - -Old Man Lynx was not afraid. He meant merely to meet each wolf as he -came, and fight him off with tooth and claw--or if worst came to worst, -he could climb the nearest tree. For the power to climb is the one great -advantage that cats have over all members of the dog tribe. - -Old Man Lynx himself was lean with famine, for the great storm had made -hunting all but impossible for him. Not so much as a wood-mouse had -shown its tracks on the snow for days. And there had been nothing in his -rocky den save the dried and frozen bones of dinners long since past. - -To surrender his supper to-night might mean starvation and actual death -to him. But so it did to the wolves. It was to be a fight for life! - -Now a lynx's claws are like so many little curved swords of poisoned -steel,--and he had five on each foot. He could dig at a wolf's -unprotected sides with his hind legs while his fore legs were clinging -to the throat in which he would try to fasten his fangs. - -The gray wolves knew all this, for Old Man Lynx visited the same -Canadian wilds that they had come from. But even so, in another moment -they had taken the leap--together! And there was more lynx fur flying -than wolf fur--as Whoo Lee, the owl overhead, could have told you. - -Just in the nick of time for Old Man Lynx, the Hired Man returned. When -he heard the shrill chorus of returning wolves, he had hastened back, -his great snow-shoes shuffling their way down the Old Logging Road at a -speed of which he had not known them capable. - -He was not thinking of Fleet Foot and the fawns. But with the barn full -of cattle, it would never do to leave such beasts at large in the -forest. When he heard Old Man Lynx, however, the Hired Man understood -just what was going on. He had not lived in the back-woods for nothing -all his days. And he decided to draw a little nearer, in the hope of -getting another shot or two at the great gray terrors from the North. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER XVI.--THE FARMER'S PLAN. - - -It was thus at the very moment that Old Man Lynx was striking out with -bared claws, and the gray wolves were closing in on him both at once, -that his unexpected ally reached the scene. - -The Hired Man raised his gun, pointing it straight between two gleaming -eyes that shone out in the darkness. He had to do it quickly, they -jumped about so fast. Then a shot rang out on the silent night! - -It singed a streak across the lynx's flank, but it felled the wolf whose -jaws were just about to clamp about his leg. A second shot nicked the -tasseled ear of the great cat fighting so desperately. But it singed the -fur on the neck of the second wolf, just in time to check him, as his -fangs were finding their way through the thick fur ruff that protected -the lynx's throat. At this second shot, the wolf, with a howl of terror, -tucked his tail between his legs and ran. - -The Hired Man hesitated, then decided that the lynx had won the right to -live by his pluck. Thus Old Man Lynx was left, somewhat the worse for -the meeting, but still able to enjoy the rest of his meal; while the -Hired Man, counting the night well spent, shuffled home on his -snow-shoes. But there was still a gaunt gray wolf at large in the -forest--and Fleet Foot and the fawns had still to get back to the -herd-yard before morning found them in the haunts of man! - -But strange things can happen. No sooner had the lone gray wolf fled -from the unexpected slaughter than the wind shifted, and he caught an -odor most agreeable to his palate. For his gaunt sides were so hollow -that every rib showed. It was an odor he had never before followed up. -He had not met it in his Northern wilds, but it smelled porky and -delicious. - -It was on the trunk of a wild apple tree that he found the little round -bristly fellow. And he could see, by the gray light of dawn, that his -black sides bulged with fat, in a winter when all the furry folk were -lean and hungry. - -That alone was puzzling. But what surprised him even more was that this -queer fellow showed no sign of fear. He was singing a little song, all -in one flat key--"Unk-wunk, unk-wunk, unk-wunk." It was a young -porcupine, one of these prickly fellows so like a tiny bear, only with -long black needles instead of fur. The gray wolf did not know how -terrible those needle-like quills can be, when once they get in one's -paw. For they are barbed like a hook on the end, and when they stick -into one, it hurts worse to pull them out than to leave them where they -are. The wood folk that lived around Lone Lake knew enough to leave -Unk-Wunk strictly alone. So, he was never afraid. But the wolf did not -know. And when the little porcupine, instead of climbing higher, out of -his reach, came lazily back down the trunk and began to gnaw the frozen -bark, the wolf thought it was easy game. - -Thus, without so much as wondering what made this strange beast so -fearless, he leaped open-jawed upon the little porcupine. There was just -one howl of agony, as he clamped his jaws on those barbed quills, and it -was not the porcupine who gave it! - -Whining and clawing at his tortured mouth, the wolf rolled about in the -snow-drift, choking and spluttering in mingled wrath and terror. For -Unk-Wunk's terrible barbed quills were working deeper and deeper into -the roof of his mouth. Finally he rolled over on them, and they pierced -through to the brain. That was the last of the great gray wolf that had -come down out of the North to prey upon the forest folk around the -Valley Farm. - -Unk-Wunk, without in the least realizing that he had done so, had -performed a public service. And in particular, he had made it safe for -Fleet Foot and her fawns to go back home to the deer yard in the gray of -the winter dawn. - -"I tell you what," said the Farmer to his son next day. "I've a plan -that I think will interest you." - -"What is it?" asked the Boy, eagerly. - -"Just this: I've plenty of hay this year, (more than enough for the -stock,) and I'm going to pitch a little of it out, after this, every -time the storms make it hard for the deer. I declare, I can't bear to -think of their being so starved!" And he gazed thoughtfully out over the -drifting snow, as he thought how Fleet Foot had braved everything to -reach their hay-stack. - -"Hurray!" shouted the Boy. "May I pitch some out right now? Poor things, -there wasn't much they could reach between the bars," and he gazed at -the dainty footprints the fawns had made the night before. - -The deep, dry snow was followed by a freeze that left a glistening crust -over every drift. Once more Fleet Foot and the rest of the deer could -run nimbly on their spreading hoofs; and young Frisky Fox and Mother -Grouse Hen and Mammy Cotton tail, the brown bunny, could foot their way -across the white expanse in search of food. For they were sure of at -least a fighting chance of getting home again. - -Fleet Foot and the fawns, returning every night to the hay-stack, with a -little band whose sides were as pinched with hunger as their own, now -passed Old Man Lynx without a fear. For where there was footing that -would bear their weight, they knew they could outspeed him. - -Hereafter the snow might whirl and the spruce trees bend and sway in the -wind that wailed through their tops, but the white-tailed deer of the -woods about Mount Olaf were always sure of a little hay to tide them -over the month of hunger. - -"Father," said the Boy, "I've made a birthday resolution. I am going to -befriend every furred and feathered creature in these woods." - -"All of them?" his Father asked. The Hired Man paused in the smoking of -his traps to listen. "You aren't going to tell us we can't do any more -trapping this winter?" - -"You can trap muskrats," said the Boy thoughtfully. "And, of course, -wolves, if any more should come. And weasels--the wicked creatures! They -are only cruel, blood-thirsty ruffians who kill without need, just for -the love of killing." - -"What about Old Man Lynx?" - -"Well, I know he is not popular. But, after all, he's a good mouser. And -we must spare our mousers, the fox and the skunk and the big barn -owl,--for the mice destroy our grain, and I don't know anything muskrats -are good for except their fur. I'm not quite sure about the wild cat, -but he doesn't do much harm, does he, as long as there are fish to be -caught? And he is a good mouser." - -"What about bears?" asked the Hired Man, with one foot on the chopping -block. - -"Never do any great amount of harm," returned the Farmer. "They can -catch mice with the best of them. Besides, they're mostly vegetarians. -It isn't once in a coon's age you'll find one of these black bears that -would harm a baby, if you let him alone." - -"The deer seem awfully afraid of bears." - -"They have a lot more reason for being afraid of men," said the Farmer, -eyeing the Hired Man's gun. - -"And porcupines? What about porcupines?" asked the latter. - -"They mind their own business," spoke up the Boy. "Let them live. You'll -have plenty to do, hunting animals like wolverines and martins and mink -and weasels. But don't any one hurt my friends!" - -Thus Fleet Foot and her fawns were allowed to live happily on, as season -followed season in the good green woods. - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF FLEETFOOT AND -HER FAWNS *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35749 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the -General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and -distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works to protect the -Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and trademark. 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Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks -in compliance with any particular paper edition. - -Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's eBook -number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others. - -Corrected _editions_ of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. -_Versions_ based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving -new filenames and etext numbers. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg(tm), -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/35749-8.zip b/35749-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2340e74..0000000 --- a/35749-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/35749-h.zip b/35749-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a17f717..0000000 --- a/35749-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/35749-h/35749-h.html b/35749-h/35749-h.htm index a6866aa..78850fb 100644 --- a/35749-h/35749-h.html +++ b/35749-h/35749-h.htm @@ -435,27 +435,9 @@ pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap </style> </head> <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 35749 ***</div> <div class="document" id="the-adventures-of-fleetfoot-and-her-fawns"> <h1 class="document-title level-1 pfirst title">The Adventures of Fleetfoot and Her Fawns</h1> - -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="class container pgheader" id="pg-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst">This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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-
-.. meta::
- :PG.Id: 35749
- :PG.Title: The Adventures of Fleetfoot and Her Fawns
- :PG.Released: 2011-04-01
- :PG.Rights: Public Domain
- :PG.Producer: Roger Frank
- :DC.Creator: Allen Chaffee
- :DC.Title: The Adventures of Fleetfoot and Her Fawns
- :DC.Language: en
- :DC.Created: 1920
- :coverpage: images/cover.jpg
-
-=========================================
-The Adventures of Fleetfoot and Her Fawns
-=========================================
-
-.. _pg-header:
-
-.. container::
- :class: pgheader
-
- .. style:: paragraph
- :class: noindent
-
- This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
- almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or
- re-use it under the terms of the `Project Gutenberg License`_
- included with this eBook or online at
- http://www.gutenberg.org/license.
-
-
-
- |
-
- .. _pg-machine-header:
-
- .. container::
-
- Title: The Adventures of Fleetfoot and Her Fawns
-
- Author: Allen Chaffee
-
- Release Date: April 01, 2011 [EBook #35749]
-
- Language: English
-
- Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
- |
-
- .. _pg-start-line:
-
- \*\*\* START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF FLEETFOOT AND HER FAWNS \*\*\*
-
- |
- |
- |
- |
-
- .. _pg-produced-by:
-
- .. container::
-
- Produced by Roger Frank.
-
- |
-
-
-
-
-.. role:: xl
- :class: x-large
-
-.. class:: center
-
- | :xl:`THE ADVENTURES OF`
- | :xl:`FLEET FOOT`
- | :xl:`AND HER FAWNS`
- |
- | A True-to-Nature Story for
- | Children and Their Elders
- |
- | BY
- | ALLEN CHAFFEE
- |
- | Author of
- | “Twinkly Eyes,” “The Little Black Bear,” “Trail and
- | Tree Top,” and “Lost River, or The Adventures
- | of Two Boys in the Big Woods”
- |
- | ILLUSTRATED
- |
- | MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY
- | SPRINGFIELD, MASSACHUSETTS
-
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- | Copyright 1920, by
- | MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY
- |
- | SPRINGFIELD, MASS.
- |
- | Adventures of Fleet Foot
- | Bradley Quality Books for Children
-
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- | TO
- | POLLY
- | WHO IS A DEAR
- | HERSELF
-
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-
-.. contents:: CONTENTS
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- :xl:`THE ADVENTURES OF FLEET FOOT AND HER FAWNS`
-
-CHAPTER I.—THE SPOTTED FAWNS.
-=============================
-
-“Me-o-ow!” screamed Old Man Lynx,
-from the heart of the woods. The two spotted
-fawns heard the cry from their laurel copse
-on the rim of Lone Lake. But, though their
-big, soft eyes were round with terror, so perfectly
-had they been trained, they never so
-much as twitched an ear. Well did they
-know that the slightest movement might
-show to some prowler of the night just
-where they lay hidden.
-
-Next morning, no sooner had the birds
-begun to chirp themselves awake, than
-Mother Fleet Foot fed the fawns as usual
-and ate her own light breakfast of lily pads,
-Then she lined up the two fawns before her.
-
-“Children,” she said, in deer language,
-“you have a great deal to learn before ever
-you can take care of yourselves in these
-woods. From now on we are going to have
-lessons.”
-
-“Yes, Mother,” bleated the little ones,
-“but what are lessons.”
-
-“They are going to be as much like play
-as we can make them,” said Fleet Foot.
-“You need practice in running, and we must
-play ‘Follow the Leader’ every day.
-Mother, of course, will be the leader. It will
-be lots of fun.”
-
-The fawns waggled their ears in delight.
-
-“Now listen, both of you,” said Fleet
-Foot. “*This* means danger! Follow me!”
-And she stamped her foot three times and
-whistled, as she leaped away through the
-bushes.
-
-“Just watch my white flag, and you’ll
-know where to follow,” she called; and she
-showed them how, when she ran, she held
-the white lining of her tail straight up to
-show which way she had gone. This was
-because her brown back might not show between
-the tree-trunks.
-
-“And when I give the danger signal, you
-must give it, too, to warn the others,” she
-added, leaping back to their side.
-
-“What others?” asked the tinier fawn.
-
-“Any deer within ear-shot. That is how
-we help each other. And remember—obey
-on the instant! It is the only safe way!”
-
-Suddenly she gave the danger signal!
-
-This time it was in real alarm, for she had
-spied a black snake wiggling toward them.
-The fawns bounded after her, just in time
-to escape the ugly fellow. And, because
-woods babies learn quickly they remembered
-to give their own tiny stamp and whistle,
-their own wee white flags wig-wagging behind
-them. Fleet Foot could have killed the
-snake with her sharp fore-hoof, but a deer’s
-long legs are better suited to running away
-when danger is near.
-
-The next day she taught them to leap exactly
-in her footprints. She took short
-steps, so that it would be easy for them.
-Great skill and experience is needed for a
-deer to know where and how to put his feet
-down when he makes those great leaps of his.
-He may land, now among the rocks, now in
-marshy ground, slipping over mosses and
-scrambling over tree-trunks. It would be
-only too easy to break one of those slender
-legs, and be at the mercy of his enemies.
-
-By the time the fawns were six weeks old,
-they had learned just how to land without
-stumbling and hurting their frail ankles.
-Then, one day, young Frisky Fox, hiding at
-the edge of the clearing, saw a strange sight.
-In fact, he thought he had never seen anything
-quite so odd in all his life.
-
-Down four little trails from the hill-top
-came four does, Fleet Foot among the number.
-And close behind each doe came her
-two fawns. Then a fifth mother came from
-the other side of the meadow. She had only
-one baby with her.
-
-It was to be a sort of party. But the fawns
-were most unwilling to get acquainted, as
-their mothers intended them to do. The
-baby bucks made at each other with heads
-lowered, ready to fight. The infant does
-backed timidly away to the edge of the
-meadow. But their mothers insisted, with
-gentle shakings of their heads and shovings
-of their velvet noses.
-
-They were pretty creatures, these baby
-deer, with their soft orange-brown coats
-spotted with white, and their great innocent
-brown eyes! Everything about them, from
-their slender legs to their swinging stride,
-was graceful.
-
-Now the mothers formed in line, the little
-ones trailing along behind them. “Ah!”
-thought Frisky Fox, “a game of ‘Follow the
-Leader’.” He and his brothers had often
-played it with Father and Mother Red Fox.
-
-At first the does ran slowly around the
-clearing, then they quickened their pace, the
-little ones trying their best to keep up.
-
-Suddenly Fleet Foot, who was in the lead,
-leaped over a fallen log at the edge of the
-glade and off into the woodland. The other
-does followed. Then came Fleet Foot’s
-youngest. This little scamp only ran around
-the log, while her brother crawled under.
-
-But that was not what Fleet Foot wanted.
-She came back, stamping her foot for attention.
-
-“Do just as I do!” she insisted. “Now
-come back and try it over again.” And she
-trotted out into the glade, and circled around
-it, the tinier fawn close at her heels, till she
-came to the log again.
-
-“Now!” she stamped, taking the leap once
-more. The fawn followed till she came to
-the log, then stopped short, with her nose
-against it. Fleet Foot hurdled back, and
-coming up behind, butted the youngster
-with her head till the fawn tried to jump.
-This time the little creature went over, as
-light as a bit of thistle-down—probably
-much to her own surprise.
-
-Then Fleet Foot turned to the larger
-fawn. “Come, now, there’s nothing like trying,”
-she urged. But he only gave a ba-a-ah!
-and wriggled under the tree-trunk again.
-
-“Follow me,” his mother bade him. First
-she led him several times around the glade.
-“Now!” she stamped, leaping the log once
-more. This time he followed without stopping
-to think about it.
-
-The other fawns behaved much the same
-way, but at last their mothers had them all
-in line. Then what a race they had! First
-around and around the opening, faster and
-faster and faster. Then, without warning,
-across the log and back again, till every infant
-buck and doe of them could do it perfectly.
-
-“Um!” sniffed Frisky Fox. “Wouldn’t
-one of those little fellows make good eating?
-I’d certainly like to try it!” For the smell
-of venison that blew to his nostrils on the
-breeze fairly made his mouth water.
-
-But Frisky was too wise a pup to think
-for an instant he could catch one. And so he
-finally trotted off to stay his appetite with
-field mice. But he told Father Red Fox
-about it that night in the den on the hillside,
-and the older fox made up his mind that next
-day he would be the one to watch when the
-fawns came to the meadow. If he couldn’t
-catch one, at least he liked to know all that
-went on in the woods. One never knew when
-an odd bit of knowledge might come in handy
-to a fellow that lives by his wits.
-
-That day the fawns were being drilled to
-run around and around in circles. They
-made a track like a figure 8, only with three
-loops instead of two. Sometimes one of the
-little fellows would slip and stumble.
-
-“I have it,” Father Red Fox told himself.
-“The fawns are learning to make a quick
-turn. Because they’d break their legs if
-they were to stumble that way in the underbrush.”
-
-The old fox knew that he could never
-catch one by the usual methods. He did
-wonder, though, if he might not corner one
-by trickery. So, gliding from tree-trunk to
-tree-trunk, he crept nearer the unsuspecting
-little school, keeping always on the side
-where the wind could tell no tales!
-
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-CHAPTER II.—A FOXY TRICK.
-=========================
-
-Now it was chiefly in a spirit of mischief
-that Father Red Fox decided to chase the
-fawns. To tell the truth, the old fellow was
-proud of his wits; and though he knew he
-could not hope to catch them and bring them
-down by a straightaway race, he thought he
-might use some trickery on them.
-
-So, he watched and waited till he should
-find them alone. After an hour or more in
-the racing meadow, Fleet Foot called to her
-little ones with a “He-eu” and a stamp of
-her little fore-hoof, and led them back to
-Lone Lake, where they all waded out after
-their supper of lily pads. Every minute of
-the time Father Red Fox was right behind,
-but always with the wind in his face, so that
-she wouldn’t catch his musky scent on the
-breeze with that wonderful nose of hers.
-
-Now Father Red Fox knew one thing
-about Fleet Foot, the doe. He knew that
-when she heard a sound that alarmed her,
-she always ran straight away from the
-sound, without once stopping to see what
-made it. No sooner, therefore, was she neck-deep
-in Lone Lake, with her back to the
-shore, than he cracked a twig behind
-her.
-
-The doe, hearing that, supposed of course
-it must be Old Man Lynx, at least, or perhaps
-a big black bear, as nothing so small
-and dainty as a fox ever made a sound like
-that.
-
-She was terribly frightened, and whistling
-the fawns to follow, she swam straight
-across the Lake, never once stopping for
-breath till they scrambled up the opposite
-bank.
-
-But Father Red Fox had raced around
-the upper end of the Lake, just far enough
-back in the woods so that she couldn’t see
-him. And the instant the tired little family
-planted their hoofs on dry ground, Red Fox,
-hiding behind a boulder, cracked an even
-larger twig, and made them think there was
-another bear on that side of the Lake.
-
-So she had to lead them back across the
-Lake again, to the third line of shore. But
-Father Red Fox was there before her and
-cracked another twig to make her think
-there was a bear on that side, too.
-
-This time the fawns were fairly gasping
-for breath, their little spotted sides heaving
-painfully and their big eyes round with
-fright. But there was no help for it; Fleet
-Foot had to make them swim back across the
-Lake to the fourth bank, where she hoped to
-get into the woods before the three bears
-could catch her. She was quite worn out,
-herself, by now, and it was only the fear of
-death that kept her in the race at all. But
-finally up the bank she stumbled, and on
-down a forest trail, her fawns following
-desperately.
-
-Father Red Fox laughed as he ran
-around the Lake. They were all so worn
-out that it should be an easy matter to
-corner them. In fact, that wicked fellow
-had one of the meanest plans in his black
-heart that ever deserved the name of a foxy
-trick. And so far it had worked.
-
-Fleet Foot, believing she had nothing less
-than a bear on her trail, raced on and on till
-her flanks dripped foam and her legs felt
-weak and wobbly—which was just what the
-old fox intended. On he raced after her,
-knowing she wouldn’t stop even to turn her
-head.
-
-Then, suddenly, he made a short cut in
-the trail and headed her straight toward a
-brush heap. The tired doe drew her trembling
-legs together for the leap that would
-carry her over in safety. But there was not
-quite enough spring left in those delicate
-hind quarters. She came down too soon,
-catching one of her slim feet in the brush.
-It broke her leg.
-
-Ah, but Red Fox had hoped it would be
-one of the fawns. Fleet Foot he dared not
-approach, because she could strike him with
-her sharp fore-hoofs, and punish him severely.
-In fact, had she known it was only
-a fox behind her, she would have stopped to
-face him long ago.
-
-The fawns—little rascals that they were—had
-not tried to leap the brush heap; they
-had left the trail and gone around it, hiding—when
-their mother fell—by crawling under
-a juniper bush. And there they waited,
-without so much as waggling an ear, till Red
-Fox had given up his quest in disgust and
-trotted away home.
-
-But their troubles were not ended. For
-one thing, they were hungry. Besides, what
-was Fleet Foot to do, helpless there where a
-real bear might find her?
-
-Just then they heard a cowbell.
-
-Clover Blossom, the soft-eyed Jersey at
-the Valley Farm, must have found a broken
-place in the pasture fence, and wandered into
-the woods again. She loved to go exploring.
-
-This time she gave the Boy a chase. Here
-it was, nearly dark! Straining his ears to
-catch the sound, he decided he must creep
-very softly upon her, or she would never let
-him catch her.
-
-The Boy, however, was not the only one
-to hear the tinkle of the cowbell. Though
-Clover Blossom grazed quite unaware that
-she was being watched, as an actual fact she
-had quite an audience of wood folk around
-her, peering and sniffing and studying the
-situation. Softly, silently, creeping through
-the hazel copse, came Frisky, the fox pup,
-as curious as his nose was long. Then came
-Bobby, Madame Lynx’s kitten, to whose nostrils
-the odor was most tempting, though he
-did not dare attack an animal so large.
-Crouched flat along a low-hanging branch, he
-peered and peered with his narrow gold-green
-eyes, his claws working nervously into
-the bark.
-
-Came also Unk-Wunk, the Porcupine, rattling
-his slow way up a beech tree from
-whose top he could see all that was going
-on. He, too, watched curiously as the Jersey
-wandered from one huckleberry bush to
-another, lowing faintly now and then as she
-realized that she needed to be milked.
-
-But the two who were most interested as
-she came their way were the hungry fawns.
-They had waited hours for the familiar
-stamp of their mother’s foot that should
-call them to her, and for the warm milk that
-had never failed them when they needed it,
-and their little stomachs ached worse and
-worse.
-
-The hot sun had crept across the sky, and
-the birds who had chirped and warbled over
-their breakfast had come out again for the
-cool of the late afternoon to chatter over
-their worms. Then the sun had grown large
-and red in the west, and the crickets had
-begun to chirp, and the white-footed deer
-mice to scuttle through the leaves in search
-of beetles. Finally the shadows had grown
-long and black, and the woods full of a
-breathing silence, and still they waited for
-their mother to come and feed them.
-
-Then, at last, they crept to where Clover
-Blossom mooed her invitation for some
-one to relieve her udders of their creamy
-burden. And when the Boy finally peered
-through the bushes beyond which she stood,
-he stopped amazed. For there on either side
-of her a tiny fawn stood nursing!
-
-“Something must have happened to their
-mother,” he told himself. “I wonder if I
-could coax them to go home with Clover
-Blossom?”
-
-Then he heard a rustle behind him. Bobby
-Lynx was slinking home. (He was ever a
-coward where human beings were concerned.)
-The next instant the boy spied
-Fleet Foot, lying helpless in the brush heap.
-
-In her exhaustion after the chase, the pain
-of her broken leg, and her terror, as she listened,
-hour after hour, for the coming of
-stealthy padded feet, she had been too weak
-to struggle. Then had come a kindly stupor.
-
-The Boy set about applying such first aid
-as he had at his command. First knotting
-her fore feet together with his handkerchief
-so that she could not struggle, he searched
-until he found a cedar sapling very nearly
-the size of the leg that was broken. With his
-jack-knife he made two length-wise slits and
-removed the bark in two pieces, as nearly the
-same size as he could make them. They were
-just long enough to reach below the foot of
-the deer and above the knee.
-
-These he lined comfortably with dry moss
-and crumpled grass, for he was going to be
-as tender of the doe as he would be of a person.
-Next he tore his shirt, which was an
-old one, into bandages the width of his wrist,
-knotting their ends together. For splints he
-went down to Lone Lake and gathered a
-bundle of good strong rushes.
-
-But when he tried to set the bone, Fleet
-Foot struggled so that he had to run home
-for his father.
-
-The Valley Farmer was a man who could
-not see any creature suffer, so he came
-straight back with his son. Lifting her to
-the ground, the farmer braced himself and
-held the injured leg while the Boy gently
-but firmly grasped it with one hand above
-the fracture and one below. My! How it
-must have hurt! But his practised fingers
-pulled the two pieces of bone in opposite
-directions till he got them end to end! Fleet
-Foot tried hard to struggle free, for of
-course she did not understand. But she was
-helpless. Then the Boy worked the bones,
-ever so gently, till a slight thud announced
-to his listening ear that they had fitted
-together right. Next, he applied the padded
-halves of the cedar bark, which—as he had
-intended—did not reach quite around the
-leg. For, in this way, he could tie them more
-firmly, as he bandaged them immovably in
-place with the strips of his torn shirt.
-
-“There!” the Farmer sighed at last.
-“That ought to heal. I don’t see why a few
-weeks of rest and good feeding ought not
-to set her on her feet again. But we’ll have
-to make a litter to take her home.”
-
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-CHAPTER III.—AT THE VALLEY FARM.
-================================
-
-Now that her broken leg had been set so
-skillfully, Fleet Foot felt better. And the
-fawns were content to get their supper of
-the Jersey cow.
-
-But the Boy and his father had to face
-the problem of getting them all back to the
-Valley Farm.
-
-“How can we make a litter?” asked the
-Boy, who was not so skilled in wood-craft
-as the Farmer.
-
-“First, find two good long poles,” his
-father directed. “I wish we’d brought an
-axe, but perhaps you can manage with your
-jack-knife.” And under his direction the
-Boy found what he needed. Next they
-peeled the bark from a chestnut tree, and on
-this they arranged a mattress of dried moss,
-then tied it firmly between the two long
-poles. Stretching this flat on the ground,
-they laid Fleet Foot on it and carried her
-home in state, one of them shouldering either
-end of the litter.
-
-“She ought to ride easy on that,” said the
-backwoodsman. But the doe shrank back
-in fear when the Boy tried laying his hand
-caressingly on her velvet throat. For every
-moment she expected they would kill her.
-
-The fawns followed Clover Blossom, and
-finally they came out into the star-lit
-meadow, where Fleet Foot caught the odor
-of cows and sheep from the big red barn.
-The next thing she knew, she was lying on a
-mound of sweet-smelling dried clover, in a
-clean stall of that same barn, and there was
-a pail of water beside her. She roused herself
-to drink feverishly, standing on three
-legs, but she could not eat. Then followed
-a few hours when she slept despite her fears,
-because she was too tired to keep awake.
-
-In the pink dawn she awoke at the sound
-of the milk-pails, and her first thought was
-of the fawns. The Boy brought her a hatful
-of grass; but her great eyes only searched
-wistfully through the woodland and meadow
-before the open door, and on to the dew-wet
-forest where she thought they waited, and
-she struggled weakly to get to her feet and
-go to them.
-
-“She’s worrying about her babies,” said
-the Boy. “Can’t we show them to her?” he
-begged his father.
-
-“The only trouble with that,” the farmer
-replied, “is that, once they get a sight of
-her, they won’t have anything more to do
-with Clover Blossom, and she’s got to take
-care of them till their own mother is well
-again. But that leg will heal quickly. The
-bone was broken in only one place. We’ve
-got to keep her quiet, though,—and the
-fawns are better off where they are.”
-
-Thus several weeks went by, till at last
-Fleet Foot was able to trip daintily into the
-pasture lot. But still she worried about the
-fawns. She was comfortable and well fed,
-and was even becoming used to the Boy, who
-brought her food and water every morning
-and sometimes a few grains of rock salt.
-Through the bars of the open doorway she
-could gaze straight into the cool green woods
-all day. Had it not been for her longing for
-the fawns, she would have been quite content
-to lie still and get well.
-
-The bone had set quickly, for her life in
-the open had given her pure blood and much
-reserve strength. But she was anxious to
-make her escape and search for her babies.
-Little did she dream, in the confusion of
-sounds and smells that filled the barn every
-day, that the pair actually came to Clover
-Blossom’s stall.
-
-Meantime, the fawns throve on the Jersey
-milk. Though too shy to mingle with the
-cows and sheep in the pasture lot, they
-spent their days in a clump of alders down
-by the brook.
-
-“Won’t they be happy when they get their
-own mother back?” the Boy exclaimed to his
-father one evening.
-
-The Father looked at his son in a puzzled
-way.
-
-“The doe has disappeared,” he
-announced. “I had just taken the splints off
-her leg. It was healed as good as new.
-Thought I’d turn her loose in the pasture to
-limber up a bit, when—would you believe
-it?—she leaped clean over that fence, and
-off into the woods out of sight.”
-
-“Honestly?” exclaimed the Boy. “Without
-so much as a thank you! And what will
-become of her now?”
-
-“Oh, she’ll be all right. But isn’t it a
-shame now we didn’t let her have her
-fawns?”
-
-“Perhaps we can keep them ourselves,”
-ventured the Boy wistfully, for he loved
-pets. “We could tame them and let them
-grow up with the cows. They’re half tame
-already.”
-
-“I don’t believe a wild thing is ever really
-happy that way,” mused the Farmer. “Do
-you?”
-
-“No, perhaps not,” decided the Boy.
-“And besides, their mother will break her
-heart if she never finds them again.”
-
-“She’ll feel badly, of course. But don’t
-you see, the fawns will take to the woods
-again, sooner or later, unless we keep them
-tied all the time. And then do you know
-what would happen? They wouldn’t know
-how to take care of themselves, without their
-mother’s training.”
-
-“Oh,” said the Boy. “And some hungry
-animal might catch them for its dinner!”
-
-“I’m afraid so,” agreed the Farmer. “It
-is always the young animals that have lost
-their mothers that get caught.”
-
-“Say, I’ve noticed a funny thing,” said
-the Boy, a few days later. “Clover Blossom
-has been giving more milk lately, and yet
-the fawns aren’t weaned.”
-
-“You didn’t see what I saw last night,”
-said the Farmer, smiling. And he told the
-Boy where to watch.
-
-Meantime what had become of Fleet Foot?
-First she leaped the fence, and took to the
-trail down which Clover Blossom had wandered—here
-over the smooth pine needles,
-there through the crackling oak leaves, and
-yonder over a fallen log. And as she went,
-she nibbled course after course of the
-dainties of the woodland.
-
-How fit she felt, after her long imprisonment!
-How swift her slender hoofs, how
-strong her long hind legs that could send
-her over a hazel copse like steel springs!
-And how good it was to be alive in a world
-all sunshine and dancing butterflies and
-tinkling streams!
-
-But where were her fawns? She searched
-and searched for some sign of the little fellows.
-But she searched in vain. And all
-the joy went out of life again.
-
-Then, one evening, as she stood on a hill-top
-watching the Boy drive the cows home
-from pasture, she saw something that made
-her lonely heart beat high with hope. She
-couldn’t make out the little spotted coats so
-far away, but she did see their red-brown
-outlines, so tiny beside the cows, and the
-furtive way they shied along, as if they
-never could get used to coming right out in
-the open. And her anxious mother-heart
-assured her that they were worth a closer
-view.
-
-So, the next night, before they turned off
-the lane to the pasture lot, the fawns heard
-the little stamp that had always been their
-mother’s signal. “Wait where you are—and
-hide!” she bade them with her whistled
-“Hiew!” “I will come to you.”
-
-And they obeyed, thrilling with a great
-wave of homesick longing for the mother
-they had thought lost to them. The Boy,
-tip-toeing back to see what had become of
-his pets, found the doe in the pasture lot,
-nursing her fawns.
-
-And though he did not know it, she stayed
-with them until the first gray light in the
-east warned her that she must leave them
-for the day. For the fence was too high for
-the fawns to leap.
-
-The next night the Boy watched again,
-from the cover of the hay-stack. Before
-long the doe leaped smoothly into the pasture,
-stamping for the fawns. Then he saw
-the flash of her white tail signaling for them
-to follow, and after that, two tinier tails wig-wagging
-through the dusk as they disappeared
-in the alders down by the brook that
-ran through the lower end of the pasture.
-
-The Boy stared after them awhile, a smile
-of sympathy in his eyes. Then—ever so
-softly, so as not to alarm them—he slipped
-across to where she had leaped the fence,
-and lifted the top bars away.
-
-The next morning the fawns were gone!
-
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-CHAPTER IV.—THE ROUND-UP.
-=========================
-
-Once back in the good green woods, both
-Fleet Foot and the fawns capered joyously.
-
-It was good just to be alive.
-
-Up and down through the forest trails
-they galloped,—down to Lone Lake, then
-back to Pollywog Pond and along the
-familiar trails on the slopes of Mt. Olaf.
-Summer was even riper and lovelier than
-when they had been taken to the Valley
-Farm,—and to the fawns, remember, it was
-their first taste of mid-summer in the Maine
-woods.
-
-These tiny fellows leaped and gamboled
-hide-and-seek, till you would have thought they
-would have broken their fragile legs among
-the boulders and fallen tree-trunks. But
-their mother knew her training had been
-thorough, and they would know just how to
-leap and land with safety.
-
-“Hello, there!—Chick-a-dee-dee, Chick-a-dee-dee,”
-a little gray bird in a black cap
-kept calling, as he followed from tree to
-tree.
-
-When at last they had had their dinner
-of warm milk, and Fleet Foot had cropped
-her fill of the tender green things that lay
-like a banquet table everywhere about them,
-she led them to a little rocky ledge that over-looked
-Lone Lake, where they could lie
-under the partial shade of a clump of yellow
-birch trees and rest, while she chewed her
-cud. The black fly season was well past, and
-there was nothing to disturb them save a
-passing swarm of midges that couldn’t
-begin to bite through their thick fur.
-
-(They little dreamed that Frisky, the Red
-Fox Pup, was peering down on them from
-a higher crag, where he, too, crouched on the
-red-brown soil that proved such a perfect
-cam-ou-flage.)
-
-No one save a fox could have seen the
-fawns, so long as they lay still, their tawny
-orange-brown coats blended so perfectly
-with the ground. And if anyone had noticed
-the white spots on their sides, he would have
-taken them for a glint of the creamy birch-bark.
-
-At first the 'two youngsters watched a
-yellow-jacketed bumble-bee, who bumbled
-and tumbled among the perfumed spikes of
-the Solomon’s seals. Then their ears
-pricked to a new voice.
-
-“Greetings, my friends!” called a cheery
-red-brown coated bird who had been rustling
-about among the dead leaves just behind
-them.
-
-He was as large as a robin, with even
-longer beak and tail, and his creamy breast
-was streaked with darker brown.
-
-“Hello, Thrush,” bleated the fawns in
-shy friendliness.
-
-“You mustn’t look for any nest in the
-bushes around here, because you won’t find
-it,” twittered Thrush, in a tone Old Man
-Red Fox would have been suspicious of.
-“Listen! I am going to give you a concert!”
-And he flew to the birch tree over their
-heads.
-
-There followed a program of the most
-varied trills and whistles the fawns had ever
-heard; and though his voice was not so sweet
-toned as some of the tinier birds’, his throaty
-trills and liquid, low-pitched chirps and
-whistles were just as delightful as they
-could be.
-
-There were bird calls all around them,
-“Pee-wees” and “Chip-chip-chips” and
-“Wee-wee-wee-wees” and all sorts of soft
-little calls and answers.
-
-They none of them minded the fawns in
-the least, except those who had nests on the
-ground. They always watched nervously
-when the frisky fellows capered too near,
-with their sharp little hoofs, though they
-knew the fawns wouldn’t hurt an ant if they
-knew it.
-
-Every now and again the singers would
-cease, when one of the soft patches of white
-cloud got in front of the sun; for instantly
-the air grew chilly, and a breeze started all
-the tree-tops to waving till the birds had to
-hang on hard.
-
-Then the Lake would ruffle into tiny wave-lets
-and grow dark green like the woods
-along the shore-line. For before, the water
-had lain as still as a silver mirror, reflecting
-the pale blue of the warm sky.
-
-In weather like this, it was good just to
-lie still and watch and listen, or drowse off
-with the sun warm on one’s fur and the spicy
-earth smells in one’s nostrils. The green
-world was so interesting.
-
-When a passing cloud of a darker gray
-brought the big drops pattering about them
-for a few minutes, they merely scampered
-under an over-hanging boulder, where they
-huddled together on a drift of leaves, and
-watched it all.
-
-Later, when the bull-frogs began their
-“Ke-dunk, ke-dunk,” down under the banks
-of Lone Lake, where the ducks were feeding
-their nestlings, and the sun began to
-send long red beams slanting through the
-tree-trunks, Fleet Foot led them down to a
-shallow cove for a taste of lily pads, and
-they waded in and tried a nibble of everything
-she tasted.
-
-After that came a night under a drooping
-pine tree, whose lowest branch roofed over
-a boulder in the most inviting way, and the
-wind droned through the branches and blew
-the mosquitoes all away, and they lay
-snuggled warmly together on the fragrant
-needles, and watched the stars come out.
-
-In the morning they were just starting
-out on an exploring tour when they were
-alarmed by the baying of a hound.
-
-Now Lop Ear had always had an important
-duty at the Valley Farm. It had been
-his part to round up the cows when night
-came, or when any of them went astray in
-the woods. And all day yesterday he had
-missed Fleet Foot from her stall in the hay-barn.
-
-True, she had always seemed different
-from the regular cows. Until she came there
-with her broken leg, he had always supposed
-she belonged in the woods. But surely,
-surely the Farmer would not have kept her
-there unless she belonged there, reasoned the,
-faithful dog. And now she was gone!
-
-There was but one thing to do: he must go
-in search of her and bring her home.
-
-All that day he tried in vain to find her
-trail. The next morning he was up with the
-sun. This time he would search farther
-afield. “Wow! Bow-wow! Wow-wow-wow!”
-Here was a footprint, unless his
-nose deceived him! What’s more, they had
-passed that way not ten minutes since! It
-was but a matter of following the trail, and
-he would be nipping at their heels and driving
-them back to the Farm.
-
-“Wow-wow-wow!” he bayed; and Frisky,
-the Red Fox Pup, heard and came trotting
-to peek at him and see what it was all about.
-
-The sound filled the fawns with uneasiness.
-They had always been afraid of Lop Ear,
-with his nipping and yapping around the
-cattle.
-
-“Children,” bade Fleet Foot sternly,
-“hurry to that clump of bracken and lie
-down. Stretch your heads and fore legs out
-straight in front of you and lie there as flat
-as you can make yourselves,—while I lead
-this hound off somewhere where he’ll lose
-your scent.”
-
-The fawns obeyed instantly.
-
-Fleet Foot then doubled back on her trail,
-and with a stamp and a snort to call the
-hound’s attention, she soon had him following
-her great bounds in quite the opposite
-direction. She kept just far enough ahead
-of him to make sure he wouldn’t give up
-the chase—though she could easily have out-distanced
-him.
-
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-CHAPTER V.—A SON OF THE WILD.
-=============================
-
-Now Frisky, the Red Fox Pup, admired
-no one so much as he did his father. And
-he had heard his father tell how he had
-chased the doe and her fawns that dreadful
-day when Fleet Foot broke her leg.
-
-Not that the little rascal really wanted to
-hurt those gentle soft-eyed babies. He
-wasn’t hungry, and besides, he couldn’t have
-killed them had he wanted to. He just
-thought it would be fun to play that he was
-Father Red Fox and give them a good scare.
-(But how were the fawns to know that?)
-In other words, like a great many very
-young persons, he didn’t stop to think of
-the other fellow’s point of view in the
-matter.
-
-Thus, no sooner had he seen Fleet Foot
-headed in the other direction, leaving the
-fawns unprotected, than he pranced merrily
-up to them, his yellow eyes gleaming with
-mischief.
-
-“Yip, yip!” he yelled at them in his high-pitched
-little voice.
-
-Now the fawns had been told to lie still.
-But how could they, when danger was almost
-upon them? They were certainly not going
-to lie there and let this little wild dog bite
-them!
-
-With a bleat of alarm they sprang to their
-feet and raced through the brush, leaping
-over bush and brier and boulder as if their
-very lives depended on it.
-
-But Frisky Fox could also leap bush and
-brier and boulder. And he came leaping
-after, just two jumps behind them!
-
-Now around a clump of greenbriar, down
-a trail of dainty pointed hoof prints that led
-through brush head high,—up hill, down hill
-the trio sped, startling the pheasants and
-sending them into the air with a whirr.
-
-Here the trail turned abruptly down the
-side of a precipice, and the fawns followed,
-while Frisky, having paused for a moment
-when his tail got caught in a bramble, had
-to come trotting after with his nose to the
-ground, as he could no longer see them.
-
-Now the fawns had never been taught that
-water carries no scent. They just happened
-to go splashing across a bit of a frog pond
-that lay cupped among hillocks of seedling
-pines. But looking back at every seventh
-leap or so, they could see that the fox pup
-followed his nose to the water’s edge, and
-there stopped and sniffed all about uncertainly,
-before again catching a glimpse of
-them.
-
-But though the chase went merrily on
-(that is, merrily on the fox’s part), the
-fawns had learned a valuable lesson.
-
-They now made straight for Lone Lake,
-and my! You should have seen the ducks
-take flight as these two alarming little fellows
-came splashing in among them!
-
-A deer, when pursued by hounds, will
-always take to water when he can, and the
-hounds have no scent to follow. Then, unless
-there is a hunter along, and he catches sight
-of his quarry, and fires, the deer are safe.
-
-The Red Fox Pup uses his eyes, as
-well as his nose, and he was so close behind,
-and understood so well this trick of taking
-to water, (for he escaped the hounds that
-way himself), that he wasn’t fooled the least
-little bit in the world. Not he!
-
-Only once they had taken the plunge, the
-little fellows decided to swim out to a reedy
-islet where they could rest. And the fox pup
-didn’t think it worth while to get his fur
-wet. For when his great brush of a tail gets
-wet, it is so heavy that it weighs him down,
-and he can’t run nearly so fast, so the mice
-all get away.
-
-Of course the fawns thought it was all
-their own cleverness, and you should have
-heard them telling Fleet Foot about it when
-she found them there!
-
-The fawns never tired of watching the life
-that stirred everywhere about them, their
-great soft eyes filled with pleasant wonder.
-
-One day it would be the one soft cluck
-of Mother Grouse Hen, calling to her chicks
-to hide before Frisky Fox should pass that
-way.
-
-When he had passed, looking so wise and
-knowing, (with his bright eyes peering into
-every nook and corner, and his pointed little
-nose testing the air for a taint), Mother
-Grouse Hen would give a different sort of
-cluck; and back the frightened chicks would
-come to her, and she would gather them comfortingly
-under her wings, pressing each
-wee brown baby to her down-covered breast
-to reassure him.
-
-Then she would utter a soft, brooding
-cluck that told them how she loved them, and
-how safe they were with Mother to look out
-for them.
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-CHAPTER VI.—A STRANGE FRIENDSHIP.
-=================================
-
-What was the matter with the hen-roost
-at the Valley Farm, the fox pup asked himself?
-He had killed so many field mice in the
-course of the summer that he felt he was
-really entitled to one of the farmer’s nice fat
-hens,—because the mice might have destroyed
-the farmer’s crops, had Frisky not
-prevented.
-
-At the same time he knew that Lop Ear,
-the hound at the Valley Farm, would have
-another opinion in the matter.
-
-Frisky sat up and thought.
-
-Lop Ear would give the alarm, and then,
-even if he threw the hound off the scent,
-there would be men with guns, and more
-dodging of bullets than he cared to risk.
-He had often seen it, watching from his hill-top
-in the woods. And he always tried to
-profit by other people’s experience.
-
-Suddenly his bright eyes began to snap.
-The very idea! He would make friends with
-Lop Ear.
-
-Then Lop Ear might try to be sound
-asleep on the night when Frisky visited the
-chicken coop; and should the Hired Man get
-out his gun, the hound would surely lose
-his trail.
-
-Thereafter, for days on end, Frisky made
-the strangest advances to the dignified old
-hound, whenever the latter fared forth into
-the woods to catch him a mouse for supper.
-It was very much like a puppy trying to
-coax an old dog to play.
-
-“Come chase me!” Frisky would invite,
-dancing ahead just out of Lop Ear’s reach.
-Then, “I’ll chase you,” he would vary the
-program. And Lop Ear (half unwillingly)
-played the role assigned him, till at last he
-came to look on his evening ramble in the
-woods with Frisky as a distinct part of his
-day’s pleasuring.
-
-Not that Frisky ever came within reach
-of Lop Ear’s jaws. No, indeed! That was
-carrying the thing a bit too far. But he
-did finally get the hound to the point where
-he no longer considered it his duty to try to
-make an end of the young fox. And he
-really enjoyed their games of hide and seek.
-
-The Boy from the Valley Farm did not
-know what to make of Lop Ear’s growing
-fondness for solitary rambles.
-
-One night, when the October moon
-gleamed cool and sparkling through the
-fringe of fir trees, young Frisky Fox might
-have been seen loping softly through the
-corn-field.
-
-“Who goes there?” bayed Lop Ear, as he
-leaped the barn-yard fence.
-
-“Come and play,” coaxed Frisky. “You
-can’t catch me!” and leaping up the sloping
-roof of the hen-house, he squeezed gracefully
-through the barred window. A
-moment more and there was a stifled squawk
-and Frisky squeezed his way back through
-the bars, dragging a hen behind him.
-
-But alas for the best laid plans.
-
-“Bow-wow-wow! You can’t do that, you
-know!” suddenly bayed Lop Ear. “That’s
-carrying the game a little too far. After
-all, I have my duty to perform.”
-
-“What is it?” yelled the Hired Man, poking
-his head from his sleeping-room in the
-barn-loft. “A fox, eh?” and he grabbed for
-his gun, leaning far out to scan the moonlit
-fields.
-
-Frisky Fox, by keeping the shed between
-himself and the gun, made off through the
-corn-field with the hen across his shoulder.
-
-Lop Ear, his warning uttered, now dashed
-madly in quite the wrong direction,—for the
-memory of the fox pup’s friendship was
-strong upon him. But the Hired Man was
-not to be fooled.
-
-In less time than it takes to tell it, he was
-out circling the field, gun in hand. And the
-bright moonlight soon showed him where the
-cornstalks rustled with Frisky’s passing.
-
-“Hi, there!” yelled the Hired Man, gun
-in hand, as he raced around the corn-field.
-
-But Frisky was an excellent judge of distance,
-and he knew to a certainty that he
-was out of gun range.
-
-He therefore deliberately stopped where
-he was and snatched a bite of his hen.
-
-As the Hired Man came nearer, the fox
-pup ran farther, always keeping just about
-so much distance between himself and the
-gun. He could easily have out-distanced his
-pursuer. But he was in a mischievous mood
-to-night, and it pleased him to see how far he
-could go toward devouring the entire hen
-while the angry man looked on.
-
-He did it, too, saucily enough, gobbling a
-bite here and a bite there, looking back over
-his shoulder the while at the man with the
-gun. One or two shots did ring out on the
-crisp night air, kicking up the dirt a few
-rods behind him, but Frisky Fox ate on,
-secure by those few rods of space, as well
-he knew.
-
-Only once did he miscalculate, the shot
-landing so near him that he knew the next
-one would surely get him if the Hired Man
-tried again.
-
-Quick as a flash the clever rascal toppled
-over on his side, playing dead. The ruse
-worked, for the Hired Man did not shoot
-again. And while he was fumbling his way
-through the corn-field to where he believed
-the fox lay waiting, Frisky was making for
-the woods with his nimble black feet fairly
-twinkling over the ground.
-
-Throwing himself at last on the soft pine
-needles on a little hill-top, he peered through
-the moonlight to where the Hired Man was
-staring helplessly about him wondering
-where the dead fox lay. Frisky laughed
-silently at the success of his ruse,—the first
-time he had ever played ’possum himself,
-though he had seen it done once before, when
-his mother had been hard pressed. In her
-case she had actually let the boy pick her
-up, when he found her with one foot in a
-trap. But to her surprise he had only
-released her with pitying words and a caress
-on her silky red head.
-
-No such treatment could be expected of
-the Hired Man, Frisky knew.
-
-Lop Ear, slinking back to the barn-yard
-with tail between his legs, was just unlucky
-enough to catch the Hired Man’s notice as
-the latter was returning foxless.
-
-“Here,” he ordered threateningly. “Put
-your nose to that trail and follow it, or I’ll
-show you what’s what!”
-
-The next thing Frisky knew, he heard the
-baying of his one-time friend close on his
-trail. With a yawn and a lick at his jaws,
-where a feather still clung, he struck off as
-easily as if he had just arisen from a sound
-night’s sleep.
-
-He didn’t even bother to keep very far
-ahead of the dog.
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-CHAPTER VII.—A WIT OUT-WITTED.
-==============================
-
-Not that Frisky Fox believed greatly in
-Lop Ear’s friendship.
-
-Not after the way the hound had given
-the alarm at the chicken coop!
-
-But he knew that at any moment he could
-so far outdistance that doubtful ally that he
-wasn’t in the slightest danger. The ground
-was firm and dry, and he had all the advantage
-of his lighter weight and nimbler feet.
-
-Had there been soft snow on the ground
-it might have been different. But the first
-frost had not yet ripened the hazel nuts
-in the woods around Mt. Olaf.
-
-Once, just to punish him, Frisky turned
-back and bared his teeth so viciously at Lop
-Ear that the hound was driven back—to the
-Hired Man’s amazement.
-
-Then Frisky tripped his way down to
-Rapid River and crossed on the wet brook
-stones, leaving no scent for Lop Ear to
-follow.
-
-The hound well off the trail, Frisky again
-crossed the stream farther up on a fallen
-log. And circling around through the
-shadows, he was soon following the Hired
-Man, slipping behind trees and boulders and
-smiling from ear to ear as the latter stumbled
-along with his useless gun.
-
-When at last the hound stopped short at
-the river bank, where he lost the scent, the
-Hired Man gave it up in disgust, and went
-back home to his bed.
-
-And Frisky, the handsome little scoundrel,
-calmly sought out the dry south side
-of a hill which would shelter him from the
-wind and slept with his black legs doubled
-under him and his white-tipped brush of
-a tail curled comfortably around him to
-keep out the draft.
-
-Shrewd, cautious, daring, the Red Fox
-Pup bade fair at this stage of his career to
-develop the best set of brains in all the
-North Woods.
-
-Yet there was one at the Valley Farm that
-could out-wit him.
-
-Frisky was sitting on his haunches a few
-days later in the midst of the now deserted
-hay field, listening for the squeak of a
-meadow mouse, when something made him
-prick up his ears.
-
-There was something about that squeak
-that sounded just a wee bit different from
-any squeak he had ever heard before.
-
-But no, there it was again, unmistakably
-the tiny voice of a mouse on the other side
-of the field. The fox pup had such needle-sharp
-ears that he could hear fainter
-sounds than any human being ever could
-have.
-
-But though Frisky Fox was clever, the
-Boy at the Valley Farm was more so. And
-the Boy sat behind a bush at the farther
-end of the field, as motionless as the gray
-stump that Frisky thought he was. This
-time the joke was on the Red Fox Pup, for
-the squeaks he heard issued from the Boy’s
-pursed lips. It was an excellent imitation.
-
-He tip-toed nearer and nearer the
-tiny squeaks, while the Boy gazed at the
-graceful fellow through his new field
-glasses.
-
-He was a handsome fellow, was Frisky
-Fox, with his yellow-red coat shining sleek
-in the sunlight. And my! How his great
-plume of a tail fluffed out behind him! His
-tail was nearly as long as the rest of his
-body put together, and it fluffed out nearly
-as broadly. Mother Red Fox certainly had
-a son to be proud of!
-
-Of a sudden a little breeze shifted around
-to where it brought the foxy one a faint
-scent. It told his keen black nose there was
-something down there besides the bush.
-
-It wasn’t a mouse, either!
-
-“No, sir, that’s no field mouse,” said
-Frisky’s nose, as the Red Fox Pup circled
-to windward of the tiny squeaking sounds.
-
-“That’s the Boy at the Valley Farm!
-That’s what that is! Now I’ll just pretend
-not to see him at all till I get behind that
-rock, then I’ll race for the woods.”
-
-For Frisky didn’t know that the thing the
-Boy was pointing at him was only a pair of
-field glasses. And it wouldn’t have made
-much difference even had he known. Frisky
-did not like to be watched. He therefore did
-exactly as he had planned, crossing the field
-with seeming lack of interest in anything
-save the purple and yellow of asters and
-golden-rod and the scarlet of woodbine, and
-the blue of the Indian summer sky, till he
-felt himself out of range.
-
-At the instant of his discovery that it was
-one of those dangerous human creatures that
-sat there like a stump he had cocked his ears
-sharply and leaped fully two feet into the
-air in his surprise.
-
-That was the only sign he made, however,
-of the extreme anxiety that set his heart to
-thumping, till he was just on the edge of
-the woods; then he suddenly looked back
-with one of his thin, husky barks, to know
-why the Boy should have tried to fool him.
-
-But afterwards, from the shelter of the
-barberry vines that fringed the old stone
-wall, he peered and peeked and wondered
-about it all as long as the Boy remained.
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-CHAPTER VIII.—STEEP TRAILS.
-===========================
-
-These hot days in August, when the trout
-took to the very deepest, coldest pools they
-could find, and hid themselves all day under
-the over-hanging rocks, and every creature
-that couldn’t take to the water longed for
-rain, Fleet Foot used to lead her little family
-up the steep trails to the top of Mount
-Olaf or some near-by mountain-top, where
-the wind blew cool night and day.
-
-These trips were full of much joy for the
-fawns, for there was all the spice of adventure
-in following a winding hoof-path that
-led—they knew not where. For one never
-knew what might be just around the next
-turn.
-
-How their hearts thumped when they came
-suddenly to the edge of a precipice, where
-they could look down at Beaver Brook tumbling
-over the rocks away, ’way down below I
-Or perhaps they could get just a glimpse of
-Lone Lake lying gleaming in the hollow of
-the hills.
-
-Not that there was any trail in the real
-sense of the word.
-
-Left to themselves, they could not have
-told one rock from another, save here and
-there where a bit of mica gleamed silver
-against the gray, or a scraggly pine leaned
-too far out over a ledge to look safe.
-
-But to their mother their trail was as
-plain as the nose on your face. It was just
-a matter of turning and twisting, here to
-pass between those two queer-shaped boulders,
-and there to go around that flat rock
-which teetered alarmingly beneath one’s
-feet. She had been over it all so many times
-that she had learned the look of each new
-turn of the pathway. Had so much as one
-pinnacle been out of place, she would have
-known,—and wondered why.
-
-One still, sunshiny morning, after they
-had drunk their fill at a cool green pool of
-Beaver Brook, they started up the mountain-side
-for a day under the shade of the
-last fringe of evergreens before one came
-to the bare, rocky ridges, where it got too
-cold for anything to grow, except in sheltered
-crevices.
-
-The fawns danced and capered to the
-music of the bird song that filled the woods,
-while Fleet Foot cropped all sorts of delicious
-tid-bits,—now a clump of oyster mushrooms
-growing shelf-like on a fallen log,
-and now a bunch of blue-berries, plump and
-juicy and sun-sweet. Life was one long
-holiday.
-
-One misty morning, as Fleet Foot was
-leading them in great bounds through the
-tall meadow grass, the fawns came to a sudden
-stand-still, their eyes popping with surprise.
-For they had just barely escaped
-stepping on the writhing coils of a great long
-snake.
-
-Their bleat of fear brought Fleet Foot
-instantly.
-
-“Pouf! That’s only a garter snake,” she
-reassured them, with one glance at the
-length-wise stripes (yellow and dark gray).
-“That’s nothing to be afraid of. The only
-kind you want to look out for is the kind
-with cross-wisp stripes. I don’t believe there
-is more than one snake in all the North
-Woods that is poisonous,—and there are at
-least a dozen that are perfectly harmless.”
-
-“What is the poisonous one?” bleated the
-trembling fawns.
-
-“The rattler. But you won’t see one of
-those in a year’s time,—not in these woods,
-where it gets so cold in winter. They love
-it hot and dry, and so of course they live
-mostly out West, though you do find a few
-sometimes among the rocks on the warm
-south side of a mountain.”
-
-“Oo! What if we’d meet a rattler?”
-shivered the fawns.
-
-“Well, he’d warn you before you went
-too near.”
-
-“Warn us?—How?”
-
-“He’d rattle, of course. He has a little
-set of bones on his tail that he can rattle, and
-when you hear that, you need to look out,
-and get away quickly.”
-
-“Are the others really harmless, Mother?”
-
-“Harmless to fawns. That is, they have
-no poison bite. Snakes do a lot of good, eating
-pests.”
-
-“But I don’t like snakes,” insisted the
-tinier fawn.
-
-“Well, neither does Mother. But it’s so
-silly, children, to be afraid. Where is that
-garter snake? Gone, to be sure! And even
-the rattler only strikes because he thinks
-you are going to kill him.”
-
-The fawns were very thoughtful after
-that. “Mother,” they finally bleated,
-“Seems as if even the meanest creatures in
-the woods had *some* use.”
-
-“That’s right,” their mother answered
-them.
-
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-CHAPTER IX—THE OGRE OF THE AIR.
-===============================
-
-It was one of those breezy days when
-white wind clouds piled up against the sky,
-and patches of shadow traveled across the
-mountain-sides.
-
-Fleet Foot had decided to take the fawns
-to Mountain Pond, in the pass between
-Mount Olaf and Old Bald-face, a peak that
-had been burned bare of trees by a forest
-fire, and now grew nothing much save blue-berries
-for the bears to feast on.
-
-Fleet Foot wasn’t a bit afraid of bears
-at this time of year, knowing how greatly
-they prefer a vegetarian diet, though, at
-that, she didn’t intend to go too near. (After
-all, the steep gulch of Beaver Brook Bed lay
-between the two mountain-sides.)
-
-They had a lovely time at the Pond, where
-they met several other does, with their
-fawns, and the youngsters played together
-while their mothers gossiped over their cuds.
-The cool breeze ruffled their fur delightfully,
-and they found enough shade in the patch
-of woods that huddled in the head of the
-gulch.
-
-As the sun neared the tops of the purple
-peaks that faded away to the west, the little
-group started back down the trail to where
-there was more herbage to browse upon,
-Fleet Foot lingering along to allow the
-fawns plenty of time to pick out a sure footing.
-For it was their first trip over this
-particular trail.
-
-Carefully they wound over a great over-hanging
-boulder, on the edge of which they
-paused to peer, with braced hoofs, over the
-precipice, which here dropped sheer to the
-rocks below. Just beyond, the first falls of
-Beaver Brook dashed green-white over the
-ledges.
-
-Then Fleet Foot hurried on to the foot
-of the falls, where one might take a shower
-bath in the spray.
-
-“Come on, children,” she whistled over
-her shoulder, her eyes on the path ahead.
-And the tinkle of the falling water filled her
-ears till she could not have heard their foot-steps
-following, had she tried.
-
-But fawns will be fawns. And the
-youngsters stopped to watch a queer shadow
-that now danced across their path. Cloud
-shadows they had watched all day, but this
-one was different. In the first place, it was
-such a tiny thing,—for a cloud. And it
-danced about in the most amusing manner,—much
-faster than any cloud shadow they had
-seen before. In fact, it seemed to be going
-around and around them in big circles. And
-it looked exactly as if the little cloud had
-wings like a bird.
-
-Alas for two such little helpless ones!—Had
-they but looked above their heads,
-instead of at the circling shadow, they
-would have discovered that it was a giant
-bird that made it. In short, it was Baldy
-the Eagle, the ogre of the air,—and an ogre
-that especially delighted in having fawn for
-supper!
-
-An ugly fellow was Baldy, with his great
-curved beak and his great yellow claws. His
-body alone was bigger than that of the
-fawns, and his wings spread out like the
-wings of an aeroplane. He was mostly a
-muddy brown, with white head and fan-spread
-tail, and he smelled horribly fishy,
-for he isn’t a bit particular about what he
-eats, and frequently stuffs himself so full
-of the spoiled fish he finds on the shore that
-he can’t even fly.
-
-The air hissed to his wings.
-
-He waited now till he felt that Fleet Foot
-was surely too far away to come to their
-rescue, should he attack the fawns. For he
-knew from experience that with her sharp
-hoofs she could put up a fight he would
-rather not face.
-
-For a while he wandered if he should just
-simply drop down upon one of the little fellows
-and pin his talons into his back, and
-fly away to his nest. But it would be awfully
-heavy to carry and of course it would kick
-and wriggle, ’till like enough he would be
-unable to manage his feathered aeroplane,
-and they would run into some jagged rock.
-
-If the fawns had been orphans, he might
-have killed one right there, and no one would
-have interfered.
-
-But they were not orphans, and their
-mother would come racing back and cut him
-to pieces with those knife-edged fore-hoofs.
-
-Ha! An idea popped into his ugly old
-head.—He would scare one of the fawns off
-the edge of the precipice, and it would leap
-to its death on the rocks below; and then he
-could wait till Fleet Foot had gone, for his
-feast.
-
-Swooping lower and lower, while still the
-foolish fawns stared innocently at the dancing
-shadow, he suddenly flapped his wings
-about the tinier fawn, startling him terribly,
-but not enough to make him back off the cliff.
-
-Stronger measures must be tried,—and
-there was no time to waste; for at the fawn’s
-first bleat of terror, Fleet Foot heard and
-was now leaping like the wind, back the trail
-to his rescue.
-
-Swooping again, Baldy began beating the
-little fellow with great heavy blows of his
-middle wing joints. It hurt dreadfully, and
-the frightened fawn turned first this way,
-then that, in his endeavor to get away.
-Nearer and nearer the edge of the precipice
-he crowded. Now one hind foot had actually
-slipped off the rock face, and he had to
-struggle to regain his balance.
-
-Then the one thing happened that could
-have saved him. Fleet Foot reached the
-spot. Rearing furiously on her hind legs,
-she struck at Baldy’s head with her
-sharp hoofs, tearing great wounds in
-his scalp. Then, with a scream of rage and
-pain, he raised his wings and slanted swiftly
-upward, wings hissing, to his granite peak.
-
-The fawn was not seriously hurt,—only
-terribly frightened. His back was bruised,
-but that would heal, and he would be none
-the worse for his experience.
-
-But where was the other fawn?—They
-found him wedged in between the boulders,—the
-one place where he could ever have
-escaped the beat of those wings. Fleet Foot
-praised him mightily for having so much
-sense, and he felt quite cocky,—though of
-course his brother was the real hero of
-the day.
-
-One other danger marred their summer.
-
-Every now and again, as they were passing
-beneath some low-hanging branch, they
-would catch a glimpse of a tawny form flattened
-along the limb, watching them with
-pale yellow eyes that gleamed through narrowed
-lids.
-
-Perhaps it would be in a deep, dark hemlock
-thicket, or a cedar swamp, that they
-would meet the giant cat.
-
-He was a ferocious-looking fellow, was
-Old Man Lynx, with his great, square, whiskered
-face, and his ears with their black
-tassels and the black stripe down the middle
-of his back. And my, how his claws
-crunched the bark as he sharpened them!
-How his whiskers twitched and his mouth
-watered as the fawns passed beneath him!
-He seemed all teeth and claws.
-
-Perhaps the little family would be drowsing
-peacefully in the shade of a long
-September afternoon when suddenly some spirit
-of their ancestors, (or was it some guardian
-angel of their antlered tribe?) would whisper
-“Danger!” and set their fur to rising
-along their spines in a cold shiver of nameless
-fear.
-
-Had Old Man Lynx ever really put
-it to the test, he could have won out with
-Fleet Foot. But he knew the sharp drive
-of her little hoofs, and he was terribly afraid
-of pain. (Did he not wear a great scar in
-his side, due to an adventure of his rash
-young days, when a fat buck had given him
-a rip with his antlers?)
-
-Perhaps that was why Fleet Foot always
-raced away in a wide curve that presently
-brought her back to where she could peer
-curiously at the invader of her solitude,
-without herself being seen.
-
-She used to spy in the same way on Old
-Man Red Fox, and Frisky, his promising
-young hopeful.
-
-In fact, what with Frisky spying on the
-fawns, and the fawns watching Frisky, these
-children of hostile tribes kept pretty close
-track of one another.
-
-The summer passed on the whole, however,
-with no more adventure than the sound
-of the lonely “Hoo-woo-o-o-o” of a loon at
-twilight, or the sudden whirr of a startled
-pheasant’s wings, or a quarrel between some
-wicked red squirrel caught robbing a crow’s
-nest. (Or was it a crow that had robbed the
-squirrel’s little hoard, and was getting handsomely
-scolded for his villainy?).
-
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-CHAPTER X.—WILD GRAPES.
-=======================
-
-It had been one of those cool, crisp days
-when the sun shone just warm enough to
-feel good to the furred and feathered folk.
-Frisky, the Red Fox Pup, had been creeping
-up on a flying squirrel, who sat nibbling
-the ripe berries of the Solomon’s Seal with
-her three little ones beside her, when the
-entire family took alarm and went leaping
-back to the beech-nut tree.
-
-Now Frisky had not reached the age of
-six whole months in vain. He had sharp
-eyes, and he used them. And he had never
-seen a squirrel that could spread sail like
-that. He felt that his eyes must have
-deceived him.
-
-He forgot his surprise at the very next
-turn of the trail, when he suddenly spied a
-tangle of wild grape vine that hung in a
-canopy of the luscious purple clusters over
-the stag-horn sumac.
-
-Frisky Fox had never seen wild grapes
-before, though he had often passed the vines
-when the fruit was green. Now his keen
-little nose told him enough to make him
-eager for a taste.
-
-But the fruit hung just too high. Leaping
-into the air, he occasionally got a nibble
-from the low-hanging bunches. But these
-only served to whet his appetite for more.
-
-To add to his discontent, Fairy the Flying
-Squirrel suddenly sailed down from a tree-top,
-alighting on the very top of the grapevine
-canopy. And there she perched saucily
-and munched and sucked at grape after
-grape before his very eyes.
-
-This was too much for Frisky. Around
-and around the vines he circled, screwing up
-his courage for a leap.
-
-He finally discovered a place where the
-vine hugged a slanting tree trunk, and he
-climbed as far as he could.
-
-The next instant Fairy had sailed back to
-her branch as easily as if she had been
-laughing at him. But Frisky didn’t mind
-that. It would take just a stretch of his
-neck and his jaws would close on a great
-cluster of the fragrant fruit.
-
-If young Frisky Fox had only been content
-with that one taste, all might have been
-well. But just beyond was a larger bunch.
-Frisky gave a leap, landing on his tip-toes
-on crossed vines. But the vines parted
-beneath his weight, and down he plunged—almost
-to the ground, but not quite. Not
-far enough for a foot-hold.
-
-And there he hung, head downward, hind
-legs tangled in the vines, unable to better
-his position!
-
-My, how he writhed and squirmed, and bit
-at the vine that shackled him! But to no
-avail! He was a prisoner, just as surely as
-if he had been tied with a rope. Little his
-brains availed him now.
-
-If any one had asked young Frisky Fox,
-as he hung head downward from that
-grapevine, what he thought of the
-situation, he would have said it couldn’t be worse.
-
-Yet it speedily became worse,—so much
-worse, indeed, that Frisky redoubled his
-efforts to free himself,—though he had an
-awful feeling that it was no use.
-
-It was Tattle-tale the Jay who warned
-him.
-
-Tattle-tale kept pretty close track of all
-that went on in the forest, and then told all
-he knew.
-
-So many times had he flown ahead of
-Frisky Fox, screaming at the top of his
-lungs: “A Fox! A Fox! Beware!” that
-Frisky had come to dread the sound of his
-voice.
-
-This time Tattle-tale, who played no
-favorites, was doing Frisky a good turn, but
-the little fox was in no position to appreciate
-the fact.
-
-“Look out, there! Look out, everybody,”
-Tattle-tale was screaming. “Old Man
-Lynx is coming!”
-
-“Old Man Lynx!” squeaked Shadow Tail,
-the Red Squirrel, making for his hole in the
-oak tree.
-
-“OLD MAN LYNX, Mammy, Old Man
-Lynx!” squealed Timothy Cottontail, hopping
-madly for a hollow log.
-
-“Old Man Lynx!” grunted Unk-Wunk,
-the Porcupine. “A lot I care!” And he
-rolled himself up into a prickly ball in the
-top of a swaying birch tree.
-
-“Old Man Lynx!” thought Frisky Fox,
-fairly beside himself with frenzy. Hanging
-there heels uppermost in the grapevine, he
-was as helpless as a mouse in a trap. And
-here was the great cat, his ancient enemy,
-creeping, creeping, creeping through the
-shadows, his nose sniffing this way and that
-for the scent that would tell him where to
-find a good supper.
-
-Another moment and out of the tail of his
-eye he saw the great, heavy, bob-tailed cat,
-with his cruel face, squared off with a fringe
-of whiskers that framed his chin, and sharp
-ears tasseled with little tufts of fur at
-their tips.
-
-The yellow eyes gleamed evilly as Old Man
-Lynx caught sight of Frisky hanging there
-so helplessly, and his grizzled gray-brown
-fur rose along his spine.
-
-Now he was wriggling along the ground
-flattened out like a snake. Now he was
-creeping up the tree trunk as silently as a
-shadow, and now he was gathering his legs
-beneath him for the leap that would land
-him squarely on Frisky Fox.
-
-Frisky knew that one crunch of those
-gleaming teeth would end it all, so far as the
-Red Fox Pup was concerned.
-
-But Frisky had a trick up his sleeve. His
-wits were still in working order.
-
-“What a pity!” sighed Shadow Tail, the
-Red Squirrel, as he peered from his hole in
-the oak tree.
-
-For Old Man Lynx had no objection what-ever
-to having fox for supper. The only
-objection he had to foxes was that he could
-never catch one.
-
-For to look at poor Frisky Fox, his red-brown
-fur still soft and silky, his black feet
-tapering so delicately and his white throat
-exposed, it didn’t seem as if he had a show
-in the world of escaping the huge cat.
-
-But Old Man Lynx was stupid. He had
-nothing but his powerful muscles and his
-murderous teeth and claws, whereas Frisky
-had the nimble wit of one who lives by being
-both hunter and hunted.
-
-And even as he waited for the leap for
-which he saw the Lynx preparing, he
-thought of a way out of both the grapevine
-and the danger he was in.
-
-The next instant the Old Man gave one of
-his blood-curdling screeches, by which he so
-often paralyzed his prey with fright. Then
-he dropped to the branch just above, claws
-out for Frisky Fox.
-
-But the very instant his heavy form
-touched the tangled vines, they gave way
-beneath him, and he, too, went crashing down
-in a net-work that held him fast. And,
-what’s more, his huge weight loosed the vines
-that held Frisky prisoner.
-
-But wait! With his great steel claws the
-giant cat wrenched himself free. Frisky
-made for a clump of greenbriar, for his leg
-had gone to sleep, and he couldn’t run right
-till it had had time to wake up.
-
-Was Old Man Lynx to get him after all?
-
-There was only one reason why he didn’t—he
-had no great fondness for brambles.
-Cats, wild and tame, are mighty fond of their
-own skins, and Old Man Lynx was no exception.
-He’d have to be mighty hungry before
-he’d either scratch his fur out or get it wet.
-
-While Old Man Lynx thought it over,
-Frisky Fox was certainly not standing still.
-Not Frisky! He was struggling so hard to
-tear himself free that the brambles were
-all trimmed up with little tufts of his tawny
-coat.
-
-That the gray form crouched so near him
-meant to spring he could easily guess, and
-his heart thumped so loudly in his furry
-chest that he could hardly breathe. Eyes
-straining wide with fright, as he tugged this
-way and that, (for he was really caught fast
-again), he suffered far more from terror
-than from the pain of the brambles. His
-leg was awake now, and with one last twinge
-he wrenched himself loose.
-
-At the same instant the great gray cat
-launched itself almost upon him.
-
-But Frisky was too quick for it. By the
-time Old Man Lynx had reached the spot,
-Frisky was tearing down the slope.
-
-Now lynxes have poor eyesight. Following
-their nose is their one best guide. Of
-this Frisky was aware, as his mother had
-told him so.
-
-He could hear the great cat scrambling
-after him at a terrific pace. But he was
-going too fast to try any dodges, for one
-stumble and the other would be upon him.
-If it had been Mother Red Fox, she could
-have laughed at her pursuer. But Frisky
-was only a pup, remember, and his short
-legs had all they could do to keep ahead of
-such a big fellow.
-
-Just as he was beginning to wonder how
-long this would keep up, he recalled something
-else his mother had taught him.
-Lynxes cannot swim. At least, they won’t.
-The river was just off to the left, and with
-a quick turn and a sidewise leap that might
-or might not throw the Old Man off his
-scent, he dashed for the water.
-
-On the very brink of the moonlit current,
-he suddenly remembered one thing more.
-The last time he had tried that swim he had
-let his tail get so wet and heavy that he had
-only reached the other bank by hanging on
-to his father’s brush. Now there was no one
-to tow him. Should he risk it, or was he
-safer where he was?
-
-To cross or not to cross, that was the question
-before him.
-
-If he trusted his fate to the current, he
-might drown. And if he remained on the
-same side with Old Man Lynx, he might meet
-another fate.
-
-There was but a heart’s beat to decide.
-
-Ah! What was that dark object just
-upstream? Could it be a log? What luck!
-Frisky veered to the right, his long agile
-leaps once more outdistancing the merciless
-form behind him.
-
-He reached the log. Alas, it reached only
-half way across! But he raced that half.
-Then one of his powerful forward leaps and
-he had landed within easy swimming distance
-of the other shore!
-
-Old Man Lynx stood raging on the bank
-he had left, afraid to risk it. His disappointed
-screech sent shivers along Frisky’s
-spine, but he knew he was safe.
-
-Pup-like, no sooner was his mind relieved
-of worry than he burrowed into an old
-gopher hole and fell fast asleep.
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-CHAPTER XI.—SPECKLED TROUT.
-===========================
-
-The still warmth of Indian summer
-passed, with its dreamy days and its crisp
-nights ablaze with twinkling stars.
-
-And Fleet Foot left the fawns to shift
-more and more for themselves,—though
-they still followed her about. At first they
-were puzzled and a little hurt by her growing
-indifference. Then, as they began to
-feel the strength of their coming buck-hood,
-they began to enjoy their taste of freedom.
-
-Indeed, the little rascals even began to
-watch the bucks, (their big cousins and
-uncles), who were returning in little bands
-from their summer’s wanderings. Someday
-they, too, would have those lordly
-antlers, and they, too, could join their bachelor
-explorations, while the does and younger
-fawns remained safely behind in the low-lands.
-
-Now no longer could they hear Vesper
-Sparrow trilling in the meadows and locusts
-twanging in the tree-tops. The brook beds
-were drying, 'and the deer now pastured
-along the sedgy shore-line of Lone Lake or
-splashed knee-deep in the shallows, while
-here and there the scarlet of a maple told
-of approaching winter.
-
-No longer did the gabbling of countless
-ducks fill their ears when the pink sunsets
-tinted the Lake. Instead, there were many
-V-shaped flocks constantly migrating to the
-Southland, where the waters would not
-freeze.
-
-Now it was that the speckled trout, whom
-all summer long they had watched flashing
-silvery through the shallows, began putting
-on their coats of many colors.—At least the
-bride-grooms did. The prospective brides
-remained a quiet brown, for reasons the
-fawns were soon to learn. (For October is
-the month when trout start housekeeping
-together.)
-
-In the early summer the fawns had
-watched these same finny fellows racing and
-leaping up the water-falls to the rapids.
-With the long, hot days, they had taken to
-the deep, shadowy pools—those watery
-caverns that afford such peaceful coolness
-everywhere along Beaver Brook.
-
-Now as the woods turned red and gold,
-the trout changed their cream colored vests
-to the most vivid orange, which looked gay
-enough with their red and white fins.
-
-Their coats were still olive-green, mottled
-with darker splotches, and on their sides the
-green melted into yellow, with the little red
-spots and speckles that give the trout their
-name.
-
-Their thousands of tiny scales were like
-suits of mail,—which came in very handy
-when they fought, as you shall see.
-
-Now the fawns noticed that the larger and
-brighter colored fish were prospecting
-around in the shallows, where the water ran
-fastest, shoveling the gravel about with their
-bony noses, aided by their tails. Each trout
-soon had a little nest scooped out in the
-stream bed, and over it he stood guard, (or
-perhaps we ought to say swam guard),
-defending his homestead against all comers.
-
-Sometimes a larger trout would come by
-and try to steal the nest of a smaller fish;
-and then what a fight they had! How they
-butted each other about, ramming each
-other’s soft sides, and even, at times, biting
-each other on the lip. It must have hurt
-dreadfully, because each trout had a mouthful
-of the sharpest teeth, that turned backward,
-so that when they caught a worm he
-was hooked as surely as he would be on the
-end of a fish-line.
-
-In trout-land, you know, it is the father
-of the family that makes the nest. He it is
-who wears the gayest clothing, too,—because
-if the mother were too bright colored,
-her enemies could see her on her nest.
-
-Once the nests were ready the mother
-trout came swimming upstream and
-promptly set to work filling them with
-leathery yellow-brown eggs, which they
-covered with gravel so that no pike or other cannibal
-of the river’s bottom could find and
-make a breakfast off of them.
-
-The fawns marveled as they watched, day
-after day, till at last the trout all went back
-into deep water for the winter, leaving the
-eggs behind them. And Fleet Foot
-explained how, next spring, each leathery
-brown egg that had escaped the cannibal
-fish and the muskrats would be burst open
-by the baby trout inside, and out would
-wiggle the teeniest, weeniest troutlet you
-can possibly imagine!
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-CHAPTER XII.—THE VICTOR.
-========================
-
-One evening when the frost lay glittering
-in the moonlight, the fawns were suddenly
-awakened, in their soft beds of drifted
-leaves, by a loud belling down on the lake
-shore; and wide-eyed, they tip-toed down to
-see what it meant.
-
-There on the muddy beach—stamped with
-long lines of little cloven hoof prints—stood
-a handsome buck, with polished antlers,
-dancing about as if too full of energy to
-stand still.
-
-Now the fawns had never seen their
-father, for he had been killed by a hunter.
-And the other bucks of the herd had been
-rambling about all summer 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 woods pranced another
-buck, belling a saucy challenge to a fight.
-Fleet Foot withdrew to a safe distance, as
-did the fawns, and watched admiringly as
-the 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 antlered heads in the pride
-of their strength, the two bucks bellowed
-their battle 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 either of 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 first buck gave a
-shrill snort of defiance.
-
-Straightway the pair began dancing a sort
-of war-dance around each other. 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 opposite
-side of the lake,—a couple of yearling bucks
-with proud spikes of horns and three with
-two-pronged antlers.
-
-Around and around the two combatants
-tip-toed, heads flung back, chins in air. Then
-they lowered their antlers like shields, and
-Fleet Foot’s champion 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, antlers against antlers.
-Their sharp hoofs fairly ploughed the
-ground as they strove and struggled and
-pushed each other about, the very whites of
-their eyes showing in their rage.
-
-“There’s ginger for you!” thought the
-fawns.
-
-Now the fighting pair were shouldering
-each other about roughly with their horns,
-lips foaming, gasping for breath,—almost
-locking horns in a butting match. At last
-the first buck lifted his knife-edged forelegs
-and 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 had had enough.
-
-The victor now turned for the look of
-admiration he felt he ought to find in Fleet
-Foot’s eyes. But instead, he barely caught
-a glimpse of her dancing away through the
-thicket, with just one merry backward
-glance to see if he would race her.
-
-But he knew where to follow; for there
-was the faintest, loveliest perfume on the
-air where she had passed.
-
-The fawns gazed after the pair, as they
-disappeared, then found themselves alone.
-All that month, while the woods turned from
-scarlet and yellow to brown and gray, and
-the nights grew frosty under the stars, the
-fawns were left very much to their own
-devices. But they were well capable of looking
-out for themselves at this time of year,
-for they found a beech wood and began fattening
-on the beech nuts against the increasing
-chill.
-
-Their coats were changing from tawny
-red to bluish gray, and their fur thickening
-to keep a layer of warm air next their skins.
-There were coarser hairs growing out as
-well, that helped to shed the rain. Their
-new fur glistened in the sunshine, and the
-fawns raced and hurdled in the keen air,
-and took running high jumps to work off
-their surplus energy.
-
-Then Fleet Foot and the winning buck
-returned, and with them came two of the
-young bucks who had watched the battle.
-The six ranged happily from cranberry bog
-to evergreen swamp, feasting, feasting,
-feasting on mosses, lichens, anything and
-everything that grew, till their sides rounded
-with their winter plumpness, and a layer of
-warm fat lay just underneath their skins.
-
-But with the first powdering of snow came
-a new danger. The hunting season had
-opened, and to the huntsman our little family
-meant merely a few pounds of venison
-for his table, and the pride of a pair of
-antlers to hang his gun upon.
-
-To the buck, however, one little bullet
-might in an instant rob him of life and the
-keen joy of his airy speed, and all the glad
-wonderful world 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’s thunder
-stick, he led his little herd to a distant cedar
-swamp, where they were soon joined by other
-groups as nervous as themselves at this new
-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 his life.—And
-sometimes he never came back! But Fleet
-Foot and her five pulled 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
-active preparations for the on-coming
-winter. Already there were chill, drizzly
-days when all the world looked gray.
-
-The former rivals now chewed their cuds
-together as peacefully as you please, the
-bucks sleeping on one side of the thicket,
-the does and their fawns on the other.
-
-Then came a big surprise for the fawns.
-
-It was a surprise for the Red Fox Pup
-as well.
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-CHAPTER XIII.—THE QUEER FEATHERS.
-=================================
-
-Frisky, the Red Fox Pup, had learned
-many lessons since the day he so nearly
-hanged himself in the wild grape-vines.
-
-There was the day of the first snow, for
-instance.
-
-Awakening one morning, cramped and
-chilled because he had not lined his bed
-deeply enough with leaves to keep off the
-cold, he peered from his little den on the
-hillside with wide eyes.
-
-The air seemed filled, as far as he could
-see, with tiny white feathers, and the ground
-was covered with them.
-
-He peered this way and that, wondering
-what kind of birds they could be whose
-plumage was being shed so freely. It must
-be a flock large enough to cover the whole
-sky, he decided, mystified.
-
-He crept stealthily from the den, afraid,
-because he did not understand.
-
-The instant his black feet touched the cold
-stuff, he leaped high into the air, with a yip
-of fright and amazement. But when he
-opened his mouth he got a taste of the falling
-flakes.
-
-“Ha!” he said to himself, “that accounts
-for it. It is just rain turned white.”
-
-Still, he crept warily down to Pollywog
-Pond for his breakfast, stepping high,
-because he hated wet feet.
-
-Arrived at the pond he stopped for a
-drink, when his lapping tongue came plump
-against a film of something hard and shining
-that seemed to cover the water. What could
-it be, he asked himself, lapping up a mouthful
-of the snow-flakes to ease his thirst. (He
-wisely held them in his mouth till they had
-melted, for fear of chilling his stomach.)
-
-It was certainly very queer. Now the
-very trees were beginning to be outlined in
-white. It made the world look quite a different
-place.
-
-As for the deer, they took to a thicket of
-poplar, birch and spruce, on which they
-could feed when the snow lay deep.
-
-There was one other to whom winter
-brought a change and that was Old Man
-Lynx.
-
-Now it is very, very seldom that good luck
-falls right at one’s feet undeserved.
-
-So Old Man Lynx warned himself when
-he came upon the muskrat in the trap.
-
-Of course the giant cat did not know it was
-a trap, as he circled around and around the
-struggling rat. His green eyes gleamed hungrily
-in his tawny face, and he crouched so
-close to the snow crust that his whiskers
-dragged on the ground. His tasseled ears
-twitched nervously, his stubby tail thrashed
-the earth and his claws were bared in a
-fringe across the great awkward paws, as he
-crept nearer and nearer the struggling bait.
-
-To the nostrils of the cat tribe the musky
-smell of the water-rat is most tempting, and
-his mouth watered till he licked his jaws at
-thought of the feast within such easy reach.
-
-And yet—and yet—some spirit of the wild—some
-instinct of the dumb brute who must
-fight to live—seemed to warn him that where
-man had been, there would be trouble for
-him. And he circled his prey without quite
-daring to close in upon it and end its squeaking
-protest.
-
-Now the Hired Man at the Valley Farm
-had not meant the trap for Old Man Lynx.
-He had placed it there on the bare chance of
-there being a wolf at large in the forest
-around Mount Olaf.
-
-As the midwinter dawn deepened from
-salmon to rose, and the snow began to glitter
-in the sun’s first rays, Old Man Lynx decided
-that the thing was altogether too mysterious
-to be wholesome. Instead, he trotted
-down to Lone Lake, where muskrats were
-supposed to be. And he promised himself
-that even were it too late in the day to catch
-a rat, he could at least afford the pleasure of
-sniffing at the chimneys to their round
-houses,—those air-holes in the top, where
-their musky breath steamed out, while the
-rats themselves lay snug and warm within.
-
-Then, suddenly, just as Old Man Lynx
-was passing a snow-laden clump of spruces,
-he caught a little movement in their lower
-branches. Circling till he had the ribbon of
-the wind in his nostrils, he discovered that it
-was a covey of grouse.
-
-Grouse! How infinitely more delicious
-than muskrat—more tender even than rabbit!
-Now indeed he was glad he had saved his appetite.
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-CHAPTER XIV—STARVATION TIME
-===========================
-
-Fleet Foot, the Doe, would never have
-dreamed of taking her fawns down to the
-hay-stack at the Valley Farm, had not the
-Farmer and his Boy set her leg the summer
-before, and gained her confidence by their
-kindness.
-
-But, though the herd had selected a south-west
-slope where the feeding was good, and
-though they had trampled the snow till it
-raised them higher and higher, and they
-could browse on the limbs of the fir trees, it
-was proving a cruel winter. As blizzard followed
-blizzard, and bark and browse alike
-were frozen stiff, they huddled together,
-weak with hunger.
-
-Then the thought of the big hay-mow provided
-for the sheep and cattle proved too
-much for Fleet Foot, and she resolved to
-take the fawns, (now well grown,) slip down
-under cover of the early winter dusk, and
-there help herself to the few mouthfuls she
-could reach through the bars. For part of
-the hay stood in the open meadow, with only
-a canvas over top to keep 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 too timid to make
-the venture with her. To them it seemed a
-perilous undertaking to go so near human-kind.
-For they had seen many things in the
-woods. They had seen the Hired Man with
-his long black stick that spoke like thunder,
-and killed more surely than tooth or claw.
-They preferred to starve!
-
-For Fleet Foot, the dangers of traveling
-alone with the fawns through the winter
-woods were many. First there was the
-chance of meeting Old Man Lynx. For now
-they would not have the protection of the
-hoofs and horns of the herd.
-
-Then they might get lost and freeze, should
-another storm catch them far from the herd-yard.
-But, once having made up her mind,
-Fleet Foot whistled to the fawns and started
-off in a series of long, graceful bounds 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 that promised a few mouthfuls of supper,
-for their empty stomachs fairly hurt.
-And if it had been freezing in the herd-yard,
-with its wall of snow, and the crowding
-bodies that helped keep each other warm,
-imagine how cold Fleet Foot’s little family
-must have been, out on the open hill-top!
-The savage wind and the snow-filled air
-made it all but impossible at times to draw
-breath.
-
-But worst of all was the shadow of fear
-that never left the doe’s anxious mother
-heart. The tree-trunks crackled alarmingly
-with the frost, keeping her alert for enemies,
-and the wind tore savagely through the
-brush. Of a sudden Fleet Foot’s spine began
-to prickle! It was one of 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 the green-black of
-the darkness. But they marked their path
-by the darker blackness of the clumps of
-spruce trees, which to their trained instinct
-pointed the way like a map.
-
-Again a chill ran down their spine and the
-hair raised along the backs of their necks!
-Some instinct told them real danger was
-near—what danger, 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 that of a hound, only
-wilder and more terrifying. Then came another,
-and a third. It was an uncanny sound,
-that of the three gray wolves, watching from
-behind the snowy evergreens.
-
-Fleet Foot knew, more by instinct than experience,
-what they were, for their like she
-had never seen before. Nor had any one in
-those woods known a winter when these ravenous
-beasts had come down out of the Canadian
-wilds. But it had been handed down
-from grand-sire to grand-son that once, when
-the snows were uncommonly deep, and half
-the wild folk starved and frozen, wolves had
-come down from the far North in search of
-prey.
-
-There were three of the lean gray shapes,
-like collie dogs, yet so much larger and
-fiercer—large enough to attack even bigger
-game than Fleet Foot, the doe.
-
-Should worst come to worst, she would
-have no more chance with even one such foe
-than a rabbit with a hound. It would all be
-a matter of which could 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 a time, outspeed
-their enemies, if their strength held
-out. The combined hoofs and antlers of the
-herd might have fought off the beasts for a
-time, but the herd-yard was now too far
-away for Fleet Foot ever to reach it with the
-fawns before those lean gray shapes would
-be at their throats. The Valley Farm lay
-straight ahead, and her fear of man shrank
-to nothing beside the terrors behind her.
-
-Yes, the one hope on the horizon lay at the
-Valley Farm, where the fear of 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 slip in the darkness, crippling
-them and leaving them helpless almost
-within sight of safety?
-
-On and on they ran, and behind them
-through the forest crept the three gray
-shapes, slinking along like shadows with
-glowing coals for eyes. Every now and again
-their barking howl, long drawn out and fearful,
-tore the darkness. Could they reach the
-Valley Farm, Fleet Foot asked herself with
-pounding heart?
-
-It was hard going through the powdery
-snow, into which she sank dangerously every
-time she came to a drift too wide to leap.
-And the fawns 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 the farmhouse. A few
-more bursts of speed would get them over the
-fence and into the pasture lot, and perhaps
-the wolves would stop at the boundary of
-man’s domain. But—could they make it?
-Could they reach that fence before their
-grim pursuers?
-
-Their eyes were fairly popping with the
-effort they were making. Here was a mammoth
-drift that in summer had been a creek,
-and there a patch of the higher wind-swept
-ground where the ice might take their hoofs
-from under them.
-
-Ah! The fence at last! One leap over its
-smooth pyramid, and with a sobbing cough,
-Fleet Foot and the fawns were safe, with the
-wolves not ten paces behind!
-
-Then, suddenly, the door at the farmhouse
-opened, throwing a long streak of
-lamp-light across the snow!
-
-The wolves slunk back in fear. But so,
-too, did Fleet Foot. The terror of the great
-gray beasts behind her, all her old fear of
-man flooded back 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 made the darkness blacker. What could
-be its meaning? Curiosity might, at another
-time, have conquered fear, but now
-she was trembling in every joint, her spent
-lungs wheezing with the effort she had made.
-This was far different from slipping in under
-cover of darkness as she had planned.
-
-“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 the open 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 his gun. But
-at the Boy’s sharp command he dropped it,
-shame-faced.
-
-Then from farther back in the evergreens
-came the spine-chilling howl of the gray
-wolves, baying their lost prey.
-
-“Wolves, my son!” exclaimed the Farmer,
-joining the group in the doorway.
-“Wolves from Canada. It’s a hard winter
-that has brought them down. I don’t remember
-seeing wolves since I was a little shaver,
-forty years 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’t frighten them away, or the
-wolves will get them, sure.”
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-CHAPTER XV.—THE GRAY WOLVES.
-============================
-
-“That’s what I heard,” exclaimed the Boy
-at the Valley Farm. “Wolves! Imagine! I didn’t
-suppose they ever came into these woods.”
-
-“It’s been an unusual winter,” his father
-assured him, stepping out into the snowy
-barn-yard. “I saw them once when I was
-ten years old. But I thought they had been
-driven away for good. I suppose the rabbits
-all froze, up where they come from, and
-they got so starved they were driven to it.
-They’ve certainly been chasing these deer.”
-
-For as their eyes became accustomed to the
-snowy darkness, they could once more see
-the shadowy forms of Fleet Foot and the
-fawns by the hay-mow.
-
-“It must have been those wolves that I
-heard ten minutes back,” said the Farmer,
-rubbing his unmittened hands together.
-
-“Just see how hollow these poor things
-look!” exclaimed the Boy. “They must be
-starving. Let’s go back inside, so they won’t
-be afraid.”
-
-They met the Hired Man just starting
-forth with his gun. “I’m going for those
-wolves,” he hastened to explain.
-
-“That’s more like it,” said the Farmer.
-
-Here they were at last, beside the hay-stack,
-Fleet Foot and her fawns. And as
-three disappointed howls arose from the
-woods at their back, the famished deer
-turned to snatch their first ravenous mouthfuls
-from between the bars of the crib. They
-paused in their banquet only long enough to
-stare at the Hired Man, as with snow-shoes
-strapped to his feet, he strode down the Old
-Logging Road,—Lop Ear, the Hound, at his
-heels.
-
-“Who-o-o-o!” howled the three gray
-wolves from the blackness of the woods.
-The Hired Man raised his thunder-stick
-and fired—straight between a pair of the red
-eyes that gleamed at him through the night.
-
-“Yoo-o-o-o!” screamed one of the wolves,
-as he fell, while the cries of the other two retreated
-into the forest. And Whoo Lee, the
-great barred owl, could have told you that
-they carried their tails between their legs.
-Their weird voices faded rapidly into the
-depths of the woods; for wolves travel fast
-on their round, furry feet, which spread out
-beneath them like round snow-shoes.
-
-The Hired Man strode on down the Old
-Logging Road past the charred trunks
-which the forest fire had swept,—standing
-like white ghosts now in their snowy mantles,—and
-on nearly to Lone Lake. But
-never a sign of the gleaming eyes of the two
-remaining wolves could he see, though his
-ears shuddered at the weird howls that rang
-down the wind, and Lop Ear bristled and
-growled.
-
-Fleet Foot and the starving fawns nibbled
-and nibbled at the hay-mow,—for the time, at
-least, safe and happy. But could they ever
-get back to the herd-yard, with those wolves
-still at large?
-
-For once they were in luck. The Hired
-Man was not the only hunter who followed
-the wolves that night. Old Man Lynx, that
-fierce, furry fellow with tassels on his ears
-and claws that could rend like steel hooks,
-had also been driven down to the Valley by
-the winter’s famine. He, too, heard the
-howling of the wolves.
-
-He heard the piercing scream of the wolf
-the Hired Man had shot, and he knew what
-it meant. The lynx was hungry, for the
-storms had lasted many days, and the rabbits
-and grouse hens hid away where he could
-not find them. On his own wide, spreading
-paws, therefore, he set out over the snow to
-find the wolf that had fallen. His heart was
-glad at the unexpected feast in store, and he
-whined hungrily under his breath.
-
-Every now and again he had to pause to
-bite off the icy balls that had formed under
-his warm feet. But before ever the Hired
-Man had turned back from Lone Lake, Old
-Man Lynx was peering and sniffing at the
-wolf that lay dead.
-
-One thing he did not know, though. No
-sooner had the two remaining wolves raced
-to Lone Lake, with their tails between their
-legs, and the roar of the thunder-stick in
-their ears, than it occurred to them that they
-were still ravenously hungry. And the one
-that had fallen would go far toward easing
-that terrible emptiness that drew their sides
-together and made them desperate. (For
-wolves are cannibals!)
-
-So, back the horrid beasts came, running
-on their furry snow-shoes—back down the
-wind, which told the noses of these great wild
-dogs as plainly as words that Old Man Lynx
-was there before them.
-
-“Who-o-o-o,” they howled wrathfully,
-speeding back through the burnt-wood, over
-whose ghost-like trunks they leapt in the
-darkness so fast that no Hired Man could
-have shot them had he tried.
-
-Old Man Lynx raised his whiskered face
-and yowled an answering challenge.
-
-“Ye-ow-w-w!” he screamed at them defiantly.
-Then he bent his head to snatch another
-mouthful of the meat he knew the
-wolves were on their way to claim.
-
-“Ye-ow-w-w!” he screamed again, as the
-wolf cry swept nearer. This time he saw
-two pairs of red eyes gleaming in the darkness.
-
-“I got here first, and I’ll make it hot for
-the first one that comes within reach of my
-claws,” he warned them, in tones they understood
-without words.
-
-“We are two to your one!” they answered
-him.
-
-Little did Old Man Lynx imagine that he
-had an ally so near. To him it was merely
-a case of having found a meal in the wolf the
-Hired Man had shot, and of having the rest
-of the pack demand it of him. So the giant
-cat took his stand, with claws outspread over
-the prize, his savage face tense with hate.
-His green eyes blazed at them through the
-darkness.
-
-The cowardly wolves paused just out of
-reach, neither one of them quite daring to
-begin the attack, yet willing to fall in, should
-the other go first, for both were wild with
-hunger.
-
-Old Man Lynx was not afraid. He meant
-merely to meet each wolf as he came, and
-fight him off with tooth and claw—or if
-worst came to worst, he could climb the nearest
-tree. For the power to climb is the one
-great advantage that cats have over all members
-of the dog tribe.
-
-Old Man Lynx himself was lean with famine,
-for the great storm had made hunting
-all but impossible for him. Not so much as
-a wood-mouse had shown its tracks on the
-snow for days. And there had been nothing
-in his rocky den save the dried and frozen
-bones of dinners long since past.
-
-To surrender his supper to-night might
-mean starvation and actual death to him.
-But so it did to the wolves. It was to be a
-fight for life!
-
-Now a lynx’s claws are like so many little
-curved swords of poisoned steel,—and he had
-five on each foot. He could dig at a wolf’s
-unprotected sides with his hind legs while
-his fore legs were clinging to the throat in
-which he would try to fasten his fangs.
-
-The gray wolves knew all this, for Old
-Man Lynx visited the same Canadian wilds
-that they had come from. But even so, in
-another moment they had taken the leap—together!
-And there was more lynx fur flying
-than wolf fur—as Whoo Lee, the owl
-overhead, could have told you.
-
-Just in the nick of time for Old Man Lynx,
-the Hired Man returned. When he heard
-the shrill chorus of returning wolves, he had
-hastened back, his great snow-shoes shuffling
-their way down the Old Logging Road at a
-speed of which he had not known them capable.
-
-He was not thinking of Fleet Foot and the
-fawns. But with the barn full of cattle, it
-would never do to leave such beasts at large
-in the forest. When he heard Old Man Lynx,
-however, the Hired Man understood just
-what was going on. He had not lived in the
-back-woods for nothing all his days. And he
-decided to draw a little nearer, in the hope of
-getting another shot or two at the great gray
-terrors from the North.
-
-.. image:: images/120.jpg
- :align: center
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-
------
-
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- :align: center
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-
-CHAPTER XVI.—THE FARMER’S PLAN.
-===============================
-
-It was thus at the very moment that Old
-Man Lynx was striking out with bared claws,
-and the gray wolves were closing in on him
-both at once, that his unexpected ally
-reached the scene.
-
-The Hired Man raised his gun, pointing it
-straight between two gleaming eyes that
-shone out in the darkness. He had to do it
-quickly, they jumped about so fast. Then a
-shot rang out on the silent night!
-
-It singed a streak across the lynx’s flank,
-but it felled the wolf whose jaws were just
-about to clamp about his leg. A second shot
-nicked the tasseled ear of the great cat
-fighting so desperately. But it singed the fur
-on the neck of the second wolf, just in time
-to check him, as his fangs were finding their
-way through the thick fur ruff that protected
-the lynx’s throat. At this second shot, the
-wolf, with a howl of terror, tucked his tail
-between his legs and ran.
-
-The Hired Man hesitated, then decided
-that the lynx had won the right to live by his
-pluck. Thus Old Man Lynx was left, somewhat
-the worse for the meeting, but still able
-to enjoy the rest of his meal; while the Hired
-Man, counting the night well spent, shuffled
-home on his snow-shoes. But there was still
-a gaunt gray wolf at large in the forest—and
-Fleet Foot and the fawns had still to get back
-to the herd-yard before morning found them
-in the haunts of man!
-
-But strange things can happen. No sooner
-had the lone gray wolf fled from the unexpected
-slaughter than the wind shifted, and
-he caught an odor most agreeable to his palate.
-For his gaunt sides were so hollow that
-every rib showed. It was an odor he had
-never before followed up. He had not met it
-in his Northern wilds, but it smelled porky
-and delicious.
-
-It was on the trunk of a wild apple tree
-that he found the little round bristly fellow.
-And he could see, by the gray light of dawn,
-that his black sides bulged with fat, in a winter
-when all the furry folk were lean and
-hungry.
-
-That alone was puzzling. But what surprised
-him even more was that this queer
-fellow showed no sign of fear. He was singing
-a little song, all in one flat key—“Unk-wunk,
-unk-wunk, unk-wunk.” It was a
-young porcupine, one of these prickly fellows
-so like a tiny bear, only with long black
-needles instead of fur. The gray wolf did
-not know how terrible those needle-like quills
-can be, when once they get in one’s paw. For
-they are barbed like a hook on the end, and
-when they stick into one, it hurts worse to
-pull them out than to leave them where they
-are. The wood folk that lived around Lone
-Lake knew enough to leave Unk-Wunk
-strictly alone. So, he was never afraid. But
-the wolf did not know. And when the little
-porcupine, instead of climbing higher, out of
-his reach, came lazily back down the trunk
-and began to gnaw the frozen bark, the wolf
-thought it was easy game.
-
-Thus, without so much as wondering what
-made this strange beast so fearless, he leaped
-open-jawed upon the little porcupine. There
-was just one howl of agony, as he clamped
-his jaws on those barbed quills, and it was
-not the porcupine who gave it!
-
-Whining and clawing at his tortured
-mouth, the wolf rolled about in the snow-drift,
-choking and spluttering in mingled
-wrath and terror. For Unk-Wunk’s terrible
-barbed quills were working deeper and deeper
-into the roof of his mouth. Finally he
-rolled over on them, and they pierced
-through to the brain. That was the last of
-the great gray wolf that had come down out
-of the North to prey upon the forest folk
-around the Valley Farm.
-
-Unk-Wunk, without in the least realizing
-that he had done so, had performed a public
-service. And in particular, he had made it
-safe for Fleet Foot and her fawns to go back
-home to the deer yard in the gray of the winter
-dawn.
-
-“I tell you what,” said the Farmer to his
-son next day. “I’ve a plan that I think will
-interest you.”
-
-“What is it?” asked the Boy, eagerly.
-
-“Just this: I’ve plenty of hay this year,
-(more than enough for the stock,) and I’m
-going to pitch a little of it out, after this,
-every time the storms make it hard for the
-deer. I declare, I can’t bear to think of
-their being so starved!” And he gazed
-thoughtfully out over the drifting snow, as
-he thought how Fleet Foot had braved everything
-to reach their hay-stack.
-
-“Hurray!” shouted the Boy. “May I
-pitch some out right now? Poor things,
-there wasn’t much they could reach between
-the bars,” and he gazed at the dainty footprints
-the fawns had made the night before.
-
-The deep, dry snow was followed by a
-freeze that left a glistening crust over every
-drift. Once more Fleet Foot and the rest
-of the deer could run nimbly on their spreading
-hoofs; and young Frisky Fox and
-Mother Grouse Hen and Mammy Cotton
-tail, the brown bunny, could foot their way
-across the white expanse in search of food.
-For they were sure of at least a fighting
-chance of getting home again.
-
-Fleet Foot and the fawns, returning every
-night to the hay-stack, with a little band
-whose sides were as pinched with hunger as
-their own, now passed Old Man Lynx without
-a fear. For where there was footing that
-would bear their weight, they knew they
-could outspeed him.
-
-Hereafter the snow might whirl and the
-spruce trees bend and sway in the wind that
-wailed through their tops, but the white-tailed
-deer of the woods about Mount Olaf
-were always sure of a little hay to tide them
-over the month of hunger.
-
-“Father,” said the Boy, “I’ve made a
-birthday resolution. I am going to befriend
-every furred and feathered creature in these
-woods.”
-
-“All of them?” his Father asked. The
-Hired Man paused in the smoking of his
-traps to listen. “You aren’t going to tell
-us we can’t do any more trapping this winter?”
-
-“You can trap muskrats,” said the Boy
-thoughtfully. “And, of course, wolves, if
-any more should come. And weasels—the
-wicked creatures! They are only cruel,
-blood-thirsty ruffians who kill without need,
-just for the love of killing.”
-
-“What about Old Man Lynx?”
-
-“Well, I know he is not popular. But, after
-all, he’s a good mouser. And we must
-spare our mousers, the fox and the skunk
-and the big barn owl,—for the mice destroy
-our grain, and I don’t know anything muskrats
-are good for except their fur. I’m not
-quite sure about the wild cat, but he doesn’t
-do much harm, does he, as long as there are
-fish to be caught? And he is a good
-mouser.”
-
-“What about bears?” asked the Hired
-Man, with one foot on the chopping block.
-
-“Never do any great amount of harm,” returned
-the Farmer. “They can catch mice
-with the best of them. Besides, they’re
-mostly vegetarians. It isn’t once in a coon’s
-age you’ll find one of these black bears that
-would harm a baby, if you let him alone.”
-
-“The deer seem awfully afraid of bears.”
-
-“They have a lot more reason for being
-afraid of men,” said the Farmer, eyeing the
-Hired Man’s gun.
-
-“And porcupines? What about porcupines?”
-asked the latter.
-
-“They mind their own business,” spoke
-up the Boy. “Let them live. You’ll have
-plenty to do, hunting animals like wolverines
-and martins and mink and weasels. But
-don’t any one hurt my friends!”
-
-Thus Fleet Foot and her fawns were allowed
-to live happily on, as season followed
-season in the good green woods.
-
-.. image:: images/128.jpg
- :align: center
- :width: 90%
-
-|
-|
-|
-|
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-
-.. _pg_end_line:
-
-\*\*\* END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF FLEETFOOT AND HER FAWNS \*\*\*
-
-.. backmatter::
-
-.. toc-entry::
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-.. _pg-footer:
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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at http://www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Title: The Adventures of Fleetfoot and Her Fawns - -Author: Allen Chaffee - -Release Date: April 01, 2011 [EBook #35749] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: US-ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF FLEETFOOT -AND HER FAWNS *** - - - - -Produced by Roger Frank. - - - THE ADVENTURES OF - FLEET FOOT - AND HER FAWNS - - A True-to-Nature Story for - Children and Their Elders - - BY - ALLEN CHAFFEE - - Author of - "Twinkly Eyes," "The Little Black Bear," "Trail and - Tree Top," and "Lost River, or The Adventures - of Two Boys in the Big Woods" - - ILLUSTRATED - - MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY - SPRINGFIELD, MASSACHUSETTS - - - - ---- - - - Copyright 1920, by - MILTON BRADLEY COMPANY - - SPRINGFIELD, MASS. - - Adventures of Fleet Foot - Bradley Quality Books for Children - - - - ---- - - - - TO - POLLY - WHO IS A DEAR - HERSELF - - - - ---- - - - - -CONTENTS - - - - CHAPTER I.--THE SPOTTED FAWNS. - - - CHAPTER II.--A FOXY TRICK. - - - CHAPTER III.--AT THE VALLEY FARM. - - - CHAPTER IV.--THE ROUND-UP. - - - CHAPTER V.--A SON OF THE WILD. - - - CHAPTER VI.--A STRANGE FRIENDSHIP. - - - CHAPTER VII.--A WIT OUT-WITTED. - - - CHAPTER VIII.--STEEP TRAILS. - - - CHAPTER IX--THE OGRE OF THE AIR. - - - CHAPTER X.--WILD GRAPES. - - - CHAPTER XI.--SPECKLED TROUT. - - - CHAPTER XII.--THE VICTOR. - - - CHAPTER XIII.--THE QUEER FEATHERS. - - - CHAPTER XIV--STARVATION TIME - - - CHAPTER XV.--THE GRAY WOLVES. - - - CHAPTER XVI.--THE FARMER'S PLAN. - - - ---- - - - - THE ADVENTURES OF FLEET FOOT AND HER FAWNS - - - - - -CHAPTER I.--THE SPOTTED FAWNS. - - -"Me-o-ow!" screamed Old Man Lynx, from the heart of the woods. The two -spotted fawns heard the cry from their laurel copse on the rim of Lone -Lake. But, though their big, soft eyes were round with terror, so -perfectly had they been trained, they never so much as twitched an ear. -Well did they know that the slightest movement might show to some -prowler of the night just where they lay hidden. - -Next morning, no sooner had the birds begun to chirp themselves awake, -than Mother Fleet Foot fed the fawns as usual and ate her own light -breakfast of lily pads, Then she lined up the two fawns before her. - -"Children," she said, in deer language, "you have a great deal to learn -before ever you can take care of yourselves in these woods. From now on -we are going to have lessons." - -"Yes, Mother," bleated the little ones, "but what are lessons." - -"They are going to be as much like play as we can make them," said Fleet -Foot. "You need practice in running, and we must play 'Follow the -Leader' every day. Mother, of course, will be the leader. It will be -lots of fun." - -The fawns waggled their ears in delight. - -"Now listen, both of you," said Fleet Foot. "_This_ means danger! Follow -me!" And she stamped her foot three times and whistled, as she leaped -away through the bushes. - -"Just watch my white flag, and you'll know where to follow," she called; -and she showed them how, when she ran, she held the white lining of her -tail straight up to show which way she had gone. This was because her -brown back might not show between the tree-trunks. - -"And when I give the danger signal, you must give it, too, to warn the -others," she added, leaping back to their side. - -"What others?" asked the tinier fawn. - -"Any deer within ear-shot. That is how we help each other. And -remember--obey on the instant! It is the only safe way!" - -Suddenly she gave the danger signal! - -This time it was in real alarm, for she had spied a black snake wiggling -toward them. The fawns bounded after her, just in time to escape the -ugly fellow. And, because woods babies learn quickly they remembered to -give their own tiny stamp and whistle, their own wee white flags -wig-wagging behind them. Fleet Foot could have killed the snake with her -sharp fore-hoof, but a deer's long legs are better suited to running -away when danger is near. - -The next day she taught them to leap exactly in her footprints. She took -short steps, so that it would be easy for them. Great skill and -experience is needed for a deer to know where and how to put his feet -down when he makes those great leaps of his. He may land, now among the -rocks, now in marshy ground, slipping over mosses and scrambling over -tree-trunks. It would be only too easy to break one of those slender -legs, and be at the mercy of his enemies. - -By the time the fawns were six weeks old, they had learned just how to -land without stumbling and hurting their frail ankles. Then, one day, -young Frisky Fox, hiding at the edge of the clearing, saw a strange -sight. In fact, he thought he had never seen anything quite so odd in -all his life. - -Down four little trails from the hill-top came four does, Fleet Foot -among the number. And close behind each doe came her two fawns. Then a -fifth mother came from the other side of the meadow. She had only one -baby with her. - -It was to be a sort of party. But the fawns were most unwilling to get -acquainted, as their mothers intended them to do. The baby bucks made at -each other with heads lowered, ready to fight. The infant does backed -timidly away to the edge of the meadow. But their mothers insisted, with -gentle shakings of their heads and shovings of their velvet noses. - -They were pretty creatures, these baby deer, with their soft -orange-brown coats spotted with white, and their great innocent brown -eyes! Everything about them, from their slender legs to their swinging -stride, was graceful. - -Now the mothers formed in line, the little ones trailing along behind -them. "Ah!" thought Frisky Fox, "a game of 'Follow the Leader'." He and -his brothers had often played it with Father and Mother Red Fox. - -At first the does ran slowly around the clearing, then they quickened -their pace, the little ones trying their best to keep up. - -Suddenly Fleet Foot, who was in the lead, leaped over a fallen log at -the edge of the glade and off into the woodland. The other does -followed. Then came Fleet Foot's youngest. This little scamp only ran -around the log, while her brother crawled under. - -But that was not what Fleet Foot wanted. She came back, stamping her -foot for attention. - -"Do just as I do!" she insisted. "Now come back and try it over again." -And she trotted out into the glade, and circled around it, the tinier -fawn close at her heels, till she came to the log again. - -"Now!" she stamped, taking the leap once more. The fawn followed till -she came to the log, then stopped short, with her nose against it. Fleet -Foot hurdled back, and coming up behind, butted the youngster with her -head till the fawn tried to jump. This time the little creature went -over, as light as a bit of thistle-down--probably much to her own -surprise. - -Then Fleet Foot turned to the larger fawn. "Come, now, there's nothing -like trying," she urged. But he only gave a ba-a-ah! and wriggled under -the tree-trunk again. - -"Follow me," his mother bade him. First she led him several times around -the glade. "Now!" she stamped, leaping the log once more. This time he -followed without stopping to think about it. - -The other fawns behaved much the same way, but at last their mothers had -them all in line. Then what a race they had! First around and around the -opening, faster and faster and faster. Then, without warning, across the -log and back again, till every infant buck and doe of them could do it -perfectly. - -"Um!" sniffed Frisky Fox. "Wouldn't one of those little fellows make -good eating? I'd certainly like to try it!" For the smell of venison -that blew to his nostrils on the breeze fairly made his mouth water. - -But Frisky was too wise a pup to think for an instant he could catch -one. And so he finally trotted off to stay his appetite with field mice. -But he told Father Red Fox about it that night in the den on the -hillside, and the older fox made up his mind that next day he would be -the one to watch when the fawns came to the meadow. If he couldn't catch -one, at least he liked to know all that went on in the woods. One never -knew when an odd bit of knowledge might come in handy to a fellow that -lives by his wits. - -That day the fawns were being drilled to run around and around in -circles. They made a track like a figure 8, only with three loops -instead of two. Sometimes one of the little fellows would slip and -stumble. - -"I have it," Father Red Fox told himself. "The fawns are learning to -make a quick turn. Because they'd break their legs if they were to -stumble that way in the underbrush." - -The old fox knew that he could never catch one by the usual methods. He -did wonder, though, if he might not corner one by trickery. So, gliding -from tree-trunk to tree-trunk, he crept nearer the unsuspecting little -school, keeping always on the side where the wind could tell no tales! - - - - -CHAPTER II.--A FOXY TRICK. - - -Now it was chiefly in a spirit of mischief that Father Red Fox decided -to chase the fawns. To tell the truth, the old fellow was proud of his -wits; and though he knew he could not hope to catch them and bring them -down by a straightaway race, he thought he might use some trickery on -them. - -So, he watched and waited till he should find them alone. After an hour -or more in the racing meadow, Fleet Foot called to her little ones with -a "He-eu" and a stamp of her little fore-hoof, and led them back to Lone -Lake, where they all waded out after their supper of lily pads. Every -minute of the time Father Red Fox was right behind, but always with the -wind in his face, so that she wouldn't catch his musky scent on the -breeze with that wonderful nose of hers. - -Now Father Red Fox knew one thing about Fleet Foot, the doe. He knew -that when she heard a sound that alarmed her, she always ran straight -away from the sound, without once stopping to see what made it. No -sooner, therefore, was she neck-deep in Lone Lake, with her back to the -shore, than he cracked a twig behind her. - -The doe, hearing that, supposed of course it must be Old Man Lynx, at -least, or perhaps a big black bear, as nothing so small and dainty as a -fox ever made a sound like that. - -She was terribly frightened, and whistling the fawns to follow, she swam -straight across the Lake, never once stopping for breath till they -scrambled up the opposite bank. - -But Father Red Fox had raced around the upper end of the Lake, just far -enough back in the woods so that she couldn't see him. And the instant -the tired little family planted their hoofs on dry ground, Red Fox, -hiding behind a boulder, cracked an even larger twig, and made them -think there was another bear on that side of the Lake. - -So she had to lead them back across the Lake again, to the third line of -shore. But Father Red Fox was there before her and cracked another twig -to make her think there was a bear on that side, too. - -This time the fawns were fairly gasping for breath, their little spotted -sides heaving painfully and their big eyes round with fright. But there -was no help for it; Fleet Foot had to make them swim back across the -Lake to the fourth bank, where she hoped to get into the woods before -the three bears could catch her. She was quite worn out, herself, by -now, and it was only the fear of death that kept her in the race at all. -But finally up the bank she stumbled, and on down a forest trail, her -fawns following desperately. - -Father Red Fox laughed as he ran around the Lake. They were all so worn -out that it should be an easy matter to corner them. In fact, that -wicked fellow had one of the meanest plans in his black heart that ever -deserved the name of a foxy trick. And so far it had worked. - -Fleet Foot, believing she had nothing less than a bear on her trail, -raced on and on till her flanks dripped foam and her legs felt weak and -wobbly--which was just what the old fox intended. On he raced after her, -knowing she wouldn't stop even to turn her head. - -Then, suddenly, he made a short cut in the trail and headed her straight -toward a brush heap. The tired doe drew her trembling legs together for -the leap that would carry her over in safety. But there was not quite -enough spring left in those delicate hind quarters. She came down too -soon, catching one of her slim feet in the brush. It broke her leg. - -Ah, but Red Fox had hoped it would be one of the fawns. Fleet Foot he -dared not approach, because she could strike him with her sharp -fore-hoofs, and punish him severely. In fact, had she known it was only -a fox behind her, she would have stopped to face him long ago. - -The fawns--little rascals that they were--had not tried to leap the -brush heap; they had left the trail and gone around it, hiding--when -their mother fell--by crawling under a juniper bush. And there they -waited, without so much as waggling an ear, till Red Fox had given up -his quest in disgust and trotted away home. - -But their troubles were not ended. For one thing, they were hungry. -Besides, what was Fleet Foot to do, helpless there where a real bear -might find her? - -Just then they heard a cowbell. - -Clover Blossom, the soft-eyed Jersey at the Valley Farm, must have found -a broken place in the pasture fence, and wandered into the woods again. -She loved to go exploring. - -This time she gave the Boy a chase. Here it was, nearly dark! Straining -his ears to catch the sound, he decided he must creep very softly upon -her, or she would never let him catch her. - -The Boy, however, was not the only one to hear the tinkle of the -cowbell. Though Clover Blossom grazed quite unaware that she was being -watched, as an actual fact she had quite an audience of wood folk around -her, peering and sniffing and studying the situation. Softly, silently, -creeping through the hazel copse, came Frisky, the fox pup, as curious -as his nose was long. Then came Bobby, Madame Lynx's kitten, to whose -nostrils the odor was most tempting, though he did not dare attack an -animal so large. Crouched flat along a low-hanging branch, he peered and -peered with his narrow gold-green eyes, his claws working nervously into -the bark. - -Came also Unk-Wunk, the Porcupine, rattling his slow way up a beech tree -from whose top he could see all that was going on. He, too, watched -curiously as the Jersey wandered from one huckleberry bush to another, -lowing faintly now and then as she realized that she needed to be -milked. - -But the two who were most interested as she came their way were the -hungry fawns. They had waited hours for the familiar stamp of their -mother's foot that should call them to her, and for the warm milk that -had never failed them when they needed it, and their little stomachs -ached worse and worse. - -The hot sun had crept across the sky, and the birds who had chirped and -warbled over their breakfast had come out again for the cool of the late -afternoon to chatter over their worms. Then the sun had grown large and -red in the west, and the crickets had begun to chirp, and the -white-footed deer mice to scuttle through the leaves in search of -beetles. Finally the shadows had grown long and black, and the woods -full of a breathing silence, and still they waited for their mother to -come and feed them. - -Then, at last, they crept to where Clover Blossom mooed her invitation -for some one to relieve her udders of their creamy burden. And when the -Boy finally peered through the bushes beyond which she stood, he stopped -amazed. For there on either side of her a tiny fawn stood nursing! - -"Something must have happened to their mother," he told himself. "I -wonder if I could coax them to go home with Clover Blossom?" - -Then he heard a rustle behind him. Bobby Lynx was slinking home. (He was -ever a coward where human beings were concerned.) The next instant the -boy spied Fleet Foot, lying helpless in the brush heap. - -In her exhaustion after the chase, the pain of her broken leg, and her -terror, as she listened, hour after hour, for the coming of stealthy -padded feet, she had been too weak to struggle. Then had come a kindly -stupor. - -The Boy set about applying such first aid as he had at his command. -First knotting her fore feet together with his handkerchief so that she -could not struggle, he searched until he found a cedar sapling very -nearly the size of the leg that was broken. With his jack-knife he made -two length-wise slits and removed the bark in two pieces, as nearly the -same size as he could make them. They were just long enough to reach -below the foot of the deer and above the knee. - -These he lined comfortably with dry moss and crumpled grass, for he was -going to be as tender of the doe as he would be of a person. Next he -tore his shirt, which was an old one, into bandages the width of his -wrist, knotting their ends together. For splints he went down to Lone -Lake and gathered a bundle of good strong rushes. - -But when he tried to set the bone, Fleet Foot struggled so that he had -to run home for his father. - -The Valley Farmer was a man who could not see any creature suffer, so he -came straight back with his son. Lifting her to the ground, the farmer -braced himself and held the injured leg while the Boy gently but firmly -grasped it with one hand above the fracture and one below. My! How it -must have hurt! But his practised fingers pulled the two pieces of bone -in opposite directions till he got them end to end! Fleet Foot tried -hard to struggle free, for of course she did not understand. But she was -helpless. Then the Boy worked the bones, ever so gently, till a slight -thud announced to his listening ear that they had fitted together right. -Next, he applied the padded halves of the cedar bark, which--as he had -intended--did not reach quite around the leg. For, in this way, he could -tie them more firmly, as he bandaged them immovably in place with the -strips of his torn shirt. - -"There!" the Farmer sighed at last. "That ought to heal. I don't see why -a few weeks of rest and good feeding ought not to set her on her feet -again. But we'll have to make a litter to take her home." - - - - -CHAPTER III.--AT THE VALLEY FARM. - - -Now that her broken leg had been set so skillfully, Fleet Foot felt -better. And the fawns were content to get their supper of the Jersey -cow. - -But the Boy and his father had to face the problem of getting them all -back to the Valley Farm. - -"How can we make a litter?" asked the Boy, who was not so skilled in -wood-craft as the Farmer. - -"First, find two good long poles," his father directed. "I wish we'd -brought an axe, but perhaps you can manage with your jack-knife." And -under his direction the Boy found what he needed. Next they peeled the -bark from a chestnut tree, and on this they arranged a mattress of dried -moss, then tied it firmly between the two long poles. Stretching this -flat on the ground, they laid Fleet Foot on it and carried her home in -state, one of them shouldering either end of the litter. - -"She ought to ride easy on that," said the backwoodsman. But the doe -shrank back in fear when the Boy tried laying his hand caressingly on -her velvet throat. For every moment she expected they would kill her. - -The fawns followed Clover Blossom, and finally they came out into the -star-lit meadow, where Fleet Foot caught the odor of cows and sheep from -the big red barn. The next thing she knew, she was lying on a mound of -sweet-smelling dried clover, in a clean stall of that same barn, and -there was a pail of water beside her. She roused herself to drink -feverishly, standing on three legs, but she could not eat. Then followed -a few hours when she slept despite her fears, because she was too tired -to keep awake. - -In the pink dawn she awoke at the sound of the milk-pails, and her first -thought was of the fawns. The Boy brought her a hatful of grass; but her -great eyes only searched wistfully through the woodland and meadow -before the open door, and on to the dew-wet forest where she thought -they waited, and she struggled weakly to get to her feet and go to them. - -"She's worrying about her babies," said the Boy. "Can't we show them to -her?" he begged his father. - -"The only trouble with that," the farmer replied, "is that, once they -get a sight of her, they won't have anything more to do with Clover -Blossom, and she's got to take care of them till their own mother is -well again. But that leg will heal quickly. The bone was broken in only -one place. We've got to keep her quiet, though,--and the fawns are -better off where they are." - -Thus several weeks went by, till at last Fleet Foot was able to trip -daintily into the pasture lot. But still she worried about the fawns. -She was comfortable and well fed, and was even becoming used to the Boy, -who brought her food and water every morning and sometimes a few grains -of rock salt. Through the bars of the open doorway she could gaze -straight into the cool green woods all day. Had it not been for her -longing for the fawns, she would have been quite content to lie still -and get well. - -The bone had set quickly, for her life in the open had given her pure -blood and much reserve strength. But she was anxious to make her escape -and search for her babies. Little did she dream, in the confusion of -sounds and smells that filled the barn every day, that the pair actually -came to Clover Blossom's stall. - -Meantime, the fawns throve on the Jersey milk. Though too shy to mingle -with the cows and sheep in the pasture lot, they spent their days in a -clump of alders down by the brook. - -"Won't they be happy when they get their own mother back?" the Boy -exclaimed to his father one evening. - -The Father looked at his son in a puzzled way. - -"The doe has disappeared," he announced. "I had just taken the splints -off her leg. It was healed as good as new. Thought I'd turn her loose in -the pasture to limber up a bit, when--would you believe it?--she leaped -clean over that fence, and off into the woods out of sight." - -"Honestly?" exclaimed the Boy. "Without so much as a thank you! And what -will become of her now?" - -"Oh, she'll be all right. But isn't it a shame now we didn't let her -have her fawns?" - -"Perhaps we can keep them ourselves," ventured the Boy wistfully, for he -loved pets. "We could tame them and let them grow up with the cows. -They're half tame already." - -"I don't believe a wild thing is ever really happy that way," mused the -Farmer. "Do you?" - -"No, perhaps not," decided the Boy. "And besides, their mother will -break her heart if she never finds them again." - -"She'll feel badly, of course. But don't you see, the fawns will take to -the woods again, sooner or later, unless we keep them tied all the time. -And then do you know what would happen? They wouldn't know how to take -care of themselves, without their mother's training." - -"Oh," said the Boy. "And some hungry animal might catch them for its -dinner!" - -"I'm afraid so," agreed the Farmer. "It is always the young animals that -have lost their mothers that get caught." - -"Say, I've noticed a funny thing," said the Boy, a few days later. -"Clover Blossom has been giving more milk lately, and yet the fawns -aren't weaned." - -"You didn't see what I saw last night," said the Farmer, smiling. And he -told the Boy where to watch. - -Meantime what had become of Fleet Foot? First she leaped the fence, and -took to the trail down which Clover Blossom had wandered--here over the -smooth pine needles, there through the crackling oak leaves, and yonder -over a fallen log. And as she went, she nibbled course after course of -the dainties of the woodland. - -How fit she felt, after her long imprisonment! How swift her slender -hoofs, how strong her long hind legs that could send her over a hazel -copse like steel springs! And how good it was to be alive in a world all -sunshine and dancing butterflies and tinkling streams! - -But where were her fawns? She searched and searched for some sign of the -little fellows. But she searched in vain. And all the joy went out of -life again. - -Then, one evening, as she stood on a hill-top watching the Boy drive the -cows home from pasture, she saw something that made her lonely heart -beat high with hope. She couldn't make out the little spotted coats so -far away, but she did see their red-brown outlines, so tiny beside the -cows, and the furtive way they shied along, as if they never could get -used to coming right out in the open. And her anxious mother-heart -assured her that they were worth a closer view. - -So, the next night, before they turned off the lane to the pasture lot, -the fawns heard the little stamp that had always been their mother's -signal. "Wait where you are--and hide!" she bade them with her whistled -"Hiew!" "I will come to you." - -And they obeyed, thrilling with a great wave of homesick longing for the -mother they had thought lost to them. The Boy, tip-toeing back to see -what had become of his pets, found the doe in the pasture lot, nursing -her fawns. - -And though he did not know it, she stayed with them until the first gray -light in the east warned her that she must leave them for the day. For -the fence was too high for the fawns to leap. - -The next night the Boy watched again, from the cover of the hay-stack. -Before long the doe leaped smoothly into the pasture, stamping for the -fawns. Then he saw the flash of her white tail signaling for them to -follow, and after that, two tinier tails wig-wagging through the dusk as -they disappeared in the alders down by the brook that ran through the -lower end of the pasture. - -The Boy stared after them awhile, a smile of sympathy in his eyes. -Then--ever so softly, so as not to alarm them--he slipped across to -where she had leaped the fence, and lifted the top bars away. - -The next morning the fawns were gone! - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER IV.--THE ROUND-UP. - - -Once back in the good green woods, both Fleet Foot and the fawns capered -joyously. - -It was good just to be alive. - -Up and down through the forest trails they galloped,--down to Lone Lake, -then back to Pollywog Pond and along the familiar trails on the slopes -of Mt. Olaf. Summer was even riper and lovelier than when they had been -taken to the Valley Farm,--and to the fawns, remember, it was their -first taste of mid-summer in the Maine woods. - -These tiny fellows leaped and gamboled hide-and-seek, till you would -have thought they would have broken their fragile legs among the -boulders and fallen tree-trunks. But their mother knew her training had -been thorough, and they would know just how to leap and land with -safety. - -"Hello, there!--Chick-a-dee-dee, Chick-a-dee-dee," a little gray bird in -a black cap kept calling, as he followed from tree to tree. - -When at last they had had their dinner of warm milk, and Fleet Foot had -cropped her fill of the tender green things that lay like a banquet -table everywhere about them, she led them to a little rocky ledge that -over-looked Lone Lake, where they could lie under the partial shade of a -clump of yellow birch trees and rest, while she chewed her cud. The -black fly season was well past, and there was nothing to disturb them -save a passing swarm of midges that couldn't begin to bite through their -thick fur. - -(They little dreamed that Frisky, the Red Fox Pup, was peering down on -them from a higher crag, where he, too, crouched on the red-brown soil -that proved such a perfect cam-ou-flage.) - -No one save a fox could have seen the fawns, so long as they lay still, -their tawny orange-brown coats blended so perfectly with the ground. And -if anyone had noticed the white spots on their sides, he would have -taken them for a glint of the creamy birch-bark. - -At first the 'two youngsters watched a yellow-jacketed bumble-bee, who -bumbled and tumbled among the perfumed spikes of the Solomon's seals. -Then their ears pricked to a new voice. - -"Greetings, my friends!" called a cheery red-brown coated bird who had -been rustling about among the dead leaves just behind them. - -He was as large as a robin, with even longer beak and tail, and his -creamy breast was streaked with darker brown. - -"Hello, Thrush," bleated the fawns in shy friendliness. - -"You mustn't look for any nest in the bushes around here, because you -won't find it," twittered Thrush, in a tone Old Man Red Fox would have -been suspicious of. "Listen! I am going to give you a concert!" And he -flew to the birch tree over their heads. - -There followed a program of the most varied trills and whistles the -fawns had ever heard; and though his voice was not so sweet toned as -some of the tinier birds', his throaty trills and liquid, low-pitched -chirps and whistles were just as delightful as they could be. - -There were bird calls all around them, "Pee-wees" and "Chip-chip-chips" -and "Wee-wee-wee-wees" and all sorts of soft little calls and answers. - -They none of them minded the fawns in the least, except those who had -nests on the ground. They always watched nervously when the frisky -fellows capered too near, with their sharp little hoofs, though they -knew the fawns wouldn't hurt an ant if they knew it. - -Every now and again the singers would cease, when one of the soft -patches of white cloud got in front of the sun; for instantly the air -grew chilly, and a breeze started all the tree-tops to waving till the -birds had to hang on hard. - -Then the Lake would ruffle into tiny wave-lets and grow dark green like -the woods along the shore-line. For before, the water had lain as still -as a silver mirror, reflecting the pale blue of the warm sky. - -In weather like this, it was good just to lie still and watch and -listen, or drowse off with the sun warm on one's fur and the spicy earth -smells in one's nostrils. The green world was so interesting. - -When a passing cloud of a darker gray brought the big drops pattering -about them for a few minutes, they merely scampered under an -over-hanging boulder, where they huddled together on a drift of leaves, -and watched it all. - -Later, when the bull-frogs began their "Ke-dunk, ke-dunk," down under -the banks of Lone Lake, where the ducks were feeding their nestlings, -and the sun began to send long red beams slanting through the -tree-trunks, Fleet Foot led them down to a shallow cove for a taste of -lily pads, and they waded in and tried a nibble of everything she -tasted. - -After that came a night under a drooping pine tree, whose lowest branch -roofed over a boulder in the most inviting way, and the wind droned -through the branches and blew the mosquitoes all away, and they lay -snuggled warmly together on the fragrant needles, and watched the stars -come out. - -In the morning they were just starting out on an exploring tour when -they were alarmed by the baying of a hound. - -Now Lop Ear had always had an important duty at the Valley Farm. It had -been his part to round up the cows when night came, or when any of them -went astray in the woods. And all day yesterday he had missed Fleet Foot -from her stall in the hay-barn. - -True, she had always seemed different from the regular cows. Until she -came there with her broken leg, he had always supposed she belonged in -the woods. But surely, surely the Farmer would not have kept her there -unless she belonged there, reasoned the, faithful dog. And now she was -gone! - -There was but one thing to do: he must go in search of her and bring her -home. - -All that day he tried in vain to find her trail. The next morning he was -up with the sun. This time he would search farther afield. "Wow! -Bow-wow! Wow-wow-wow!" Here was a footprint, unless his nose deceived -him! What's more, they had passed that way not ten minutes since! It was -but a matter of following the trail, and he would be nipping at their -heels and driving them back to the Farm. - -"Wow-wow-wow!" he bayed; and Frisky, the Red Fox Pup, heard and came -trotting to peek at him and see what it was all about. - -The sound filled the fawns with uneasiness. They had always been afraid -of Lop Ear, with his nipping and yapping around the cattle. - -"Children," bade Fleet Foot sternly, "hurry to that clump of bracken and -lie down. Stretch your heads and fore legs out straight in front of you -and lie there as flat as you can make yourselves,--while I lead this -hound off somewhere where he'll lose your scent." - -The fawns obeyed instantly. - -Fleet Foot then doubled back on her trail, and with a stamp and a snort -to call the hound's attention, she soon had him following her great -bounds in quite the opposite direction. She kept just far enough ahead -of him to make sure he wouldn't give up the chase--though she could -easily have out-distanced him. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER V.--A SON OF THE WILD. - - -Now Frisky, the Red Fox Pup, admired no one so much as he did his -father. And he had heard his father tell how he had chased the doe and -her fawns that dreadful day when Fleet Foot broke her leg. - -Not that the little rascal really wanted to hurt those gentle soft-eyed -babies. He wasn't hungry, and besides, he couldn't have killed them had -he wanted to. He just thought it would be fun to play that he was Father -Red Fox and give them a good scare. (But how were the fawns to know -that?) In other words, like a great many very young persons, he didn't -stop to think of the other fellow's point of view in the matter. - -Thus, no sooner had he seen Fleet Foot headed in the other direction, -leaving the fawns unprotected, than he pranced merrily up to them, his -yellow eyes gleaming with mischief. - -"Yip, yip!" he yelled at them in his high-pitched little voice. - -Now the fawns had been told to lie still. But how could they, when -danger was almost upon them? They were certainly not going to lie there -and let this little wild dog bite them! - -With a bleat of alarm they sprang to their feet and raced through the -brush, leaping over bush and brier and boulder as if their very lives -depended on it. - -But Frisky Fox could also leap bush and brier and boulder. And he came -leaping after, just two jumps behind them! - -Now around a clump of greenbriar, down a trail of dainty pointed hoof -prints that led through brush head high,--up hill, down hill the trio -sped, startling the pheasants and sending them into the air with a -whirr. - -Here the trail turned abruptly down the side of a precipice, and the -fawns followed, while Frisky, having paused for a moment when his tail -got caught in a bramble, had to come trotting after with his nose to the -ground, as he could no longer see them. - -Now the fawns had never been taught that water carries no scent. They -just happened to go splashing across a bit of a frog pond that lay -cupped among hillocks of seedling pines. But looking back at every -seventh leap or so, they could see that the fox pup followed his nose to -the water's edge, and there stopped and sniffed all about uncertainly, -before again catching a glimpse of them. - -But though the chase went merrily on (that is, merrily on the fox's -part), the fawns had learned a valuable lesson. - -They now made straight for Lone Lake, and my! You should have seen the -ducks take flight as these two alarming little fellows came splashing in -among them! - -A deer, when pursued by hounds, will always take to water when he can, -and the hounds have no scent to follow. Then, unless there is a hunter -along, and he catches sight of his quarry, and fires, the deer are safe. - -The Red Fox Pup uses his eyes, as well as his nose, and he was so close -behind, and understood so well this trick of taking to water, (for he -escaped the hounds that way himself), that he wasn't fooled the least -little bit in the world. Not he! - -Only once they had taken the plunge, the little fellows decided to swim -out to a reedy islet where they could rest. And the fox pup didn't think -it worth while to get his fur wet. For when his great brush of a tail -gets wet, it is so heavy that it weighs him down, and he can't run -nearly so fast, so the mice all get away. - -Of course the fawns thought it was all their own cleverness, and you -should have heard them telling Fleet Foot about it when she found them -there! - -The fawns never tired of watching the life that stirred everywhere about -them, their great soft eyes filled with pleasant wonder. - -One day it would be the one soft cluck of Mother Grouse Hen, calling to -her chicks to hide before Frisky Fox should pass that way. - -When he had passed, looking so wise and knowing, (with his bright eyes -peering into every nook and corner, and his pointed little nose testing -the air for a taint), Mother Grouse Hen would give a different sort of -cluck; and back the frightened chicks would come to her, and she would -gather them comfortingly under her wings, pressing each wee brown baby -to her down-covered breast to reassure him. - -Then she would utter a soft, brooding cluck that told them how she loved -them, and how safe they were with Mother to look out for them. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER VI.--A STRANGE FRIENDSHIP. - - -What was the matter with the hen-roost at the Valley Farm, the fox pup -asked himself? He had killed so many field mice in the course of the -summer that he felt he was really entitled to one of the farmer's nice -fat hens,--because the mice might have destroyed the farmer's crops, had -Frisky not prevented. - -At the same time he knew that Lop Ear, the hound at the Valley Farm, -would have another opinion in the matter. - -Frisky sat up and thought. - -Lop Ear would give the alarm, and then, even if he threw the hound off -the scent, there would be men with guns, and more dodging of bullets -than he cared to risk. He had often seen it, watching from his hill-top -in the woods. And he always tried to profit by other people's -experience. - -Suddenly his bright eyes began to snap. The very idea! He would make -friends with Lop Ear. - -Then Lop Ear might try to be sound asleep on the night when Frisky -visited the chicken coop; and should the Hired Man get out his gun, the -hound would surely lose his trail. - -Thereafter, for days on end, Frisky made the strangest advances to the -dignified old hound, whenever the latter fared forth into the woods to -catch him a mouse for supper. It was very much like a puppy trying to -coax an old dog to play. - -"Come chase me!" Frisky would invite, dancing ahead just out of Lop -Ear's reach. Then, "I'll chase you," he would vary the program. And Lop -Ear (half unwillingly) played the role assigned him, till at last he -came to look on his evening ramble in the woods with Frisky as a -distinct part of his day's pleasuring. - -Not that Frisky ever came within reach of Lop Ear's jaws. No, indeed! -That was carrying the thing a bit too far. But he did finally get the -hound to the point where he no longer considered it his duty to try to -make an end of the young fox. And he really enjoyed their games of hide -and seek. - -The Boy from the Valley Farm did not know what to make of Lop Ear's -growing fondness for solitary rambles. - -One night, when the October moon gleamed cool and sparkling through the -fringe of fir trees, young Frisky Fox might have been seen loping softly -through the corn-field. - -"Who goes there?" bayed Lop Ear, as he leaped the barn-yard fence. - -"Come and play," coaxed Frisky. "You can't catch me!" and leaping up the -sloping roof of the hen-house, he squeezed gracefully through the barred -window. A moment more and there was a stifled squawk and Frisky squeezed -his way back through the bars, dragging a hen behind him. - -But alas for the best laid plans. - -"Bow-wow-wow! You can't do that, you know!" suddenly bayed Lop Ear. -"That's carrying the game a little too far. After all, I have my duty to -perform." - -"What is it?" yelled the Hired Man, poking his head from his -sleeping-room in the barn-loft. "A fox, eh?" and he grabbed for his gun, -leaning far out to scan the moonlit fields. - -Frisky Fox, by keeping the shed between himself and the gun, made off -through the corn-field with the hen across his shoulder. - -Lop Ear, his warning uttered, now dashed madly in quite the wrong -direction,--for the memory of the fox pup's friendship was strong upon -him. But the Hired Man was not to be fooled. - -In less time than it takes to tell it, he was out circling the field, -gun in hand. And the bright moonlight soon showed him where the -cornstalks rustled with Frisky's passing. - -"Hi, there!" yelled the Hired Man, gun in hand, as he raced around the -corn-field. - -But Frisky was an excellent judge of distance, and he knew to a -certainty that he was out of gun range. - -He therefore deliberately stopped where he was and snatched a bite of -his hen. - -As the Hired Man came nearer, the fox pup ran farther, always keeping -just about so much distance between himself and the gun. He could easily -have out-distanced his pursuer. But he was in a mischievous mood -to-night, and it pleased him to see how far he could go toward devouring -the entire hen while the angry man looked on. - -He did it, too, saucily enough, gobbling a bite here and a bite there, -looking back over his shoulder the while at the man with the gun. One or -two shots did ring out on the crisp night air, kicking up the dirt a few -rods behind him, but Frisky Fox ate on, secure by those few rods of -space, as well he knew. - -Only once did he miscalculate, the shot landing so near him that he knew -the next one would surely get him if the Hired Man tried again. - -Quick as a flash the clever rascal toppled over on his side, playing -dead. The ruse worked, for the Hired Man did not shoot again. And while -he was fumbling his way through the corn-field to where he believed the -fox lay waiting, Frisky was making for the woods with his nimble black -feet fairly twinkling over the ground. - -Throwing himself at last on the soft pine needles on a little hill-top, -he peered through the moonlight to where the Hired Man was staring -helplessly about him wondering where the dead fox lay. Frisky laughed -silently at the success of his ruse,--the first time he had ever played -'possum himself, though he had seen it done once before, when his mother -had been hard pressed. In her case she had actually let the boy pick her -up, when he found her with one foot in a trap. But to her surprise he -had only released her with pitying words and a caress on her silky red -head. - -No such treatment could be expected of the Hired Man, Frisky knew. - -Lop Ear, slinking back to the barn-yard with tail between his legs, was -just unlucky enough to catch the Hired Man's notice as the latter was -returning foxless. - -"Here," he ordered threateningly. "Put your nose to that trail and -follow it, or I'll show you what's what!" - -The next thing Frisky knew, he heard the baying of his one-time friend -close on his trail. With a yawn and a lick at his jaws, where a feather -still clung, he struck off as easily as if he had just arisen from a -sound night's sleep. - -He didn't even bother to keep very far ahead of the dog. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER VII.--A WIT OUT-WITTED. - - -Not that Frisky Fox believed greatly in Lop Ear's friendship. - -Not after the way the hound had given the alarm at the chicken coop! - -But he knew that at any moment he could so far outdistance that doubtful -ally that he wasn't in the slightest danger. The ground was firm and -dry, and he had all the advantage of his lighter weight and nimbler -feet. - -Had there been soft snow on the ground it might have been different. But -the first frost had not yet ripened the hazel nuts in the woods around -Mt. Olaf. - -Once, just to punish him, Frisky turned back and bared his teeth so -viciously at Lop Ear that the hound was driven back--to the Hired Man's -amazement. - -Then Frisky tripped his way down to Rapid River and crossed on the wet -brook stones, leaving no scent for Lop Ear to follow. - -The hound well off the trail, Frisky again crossed the stream farther up -on a fallen log. And circling around through the shadows, he was soon -following the Hired Man, slipping behind trees and boulders and smiling -from ear to ear as the latter stumbled along with his useless gun. - -When at last the hound stopped short at the river bank, where he lost -the scent, the Hired Man gave it up in disgust, and went back home to -his bed. - -And Frisky, the handsome little scoundrel, calmly sought out the dry -south side of a hill which would shelter him from the wind and slept -with his black legs doubled under him and his white-tipped brush of a -tail curled comfortably around him to keep out the draft. - -Shrewd, cautious, daring, the Red Fox Pup bade fair at this stage of his -career to develop the best set of brains in all the North Woods. - -Yet there was one at the Valley Farm that could out-wit him. - -Frisky was sitting on his haunches a few days later in the midst of the -now deserted hay field, listening for the squeak of a meadow mouse, when -something made him prick up his ears. - -There was something about that squeak that sounded just a wee bit -different from any squeak he had ever heard before. - -But no, there it was again, unmistakably the tiny voice of a mouse on -the other side of the field. The fox pup had such needle-sharp ears that -he could hear fainter sounds than any human being ever could have. - -But though Frisky Fox was clever, the Boy at the Valley Farm was more -so. And the Boy sat behind a bush at the farther end of the field, as -motionless as the gray stump that Frisky thought he was. This time the -joke was on the Red Fox Pup, for the squeaks he heard issued from the -Boy's pursed lips. It was an excellent imitation. - -He tip-toed nearer and nearer the tiny squeaks, while the Boy gazed at -the graceful fellow through his new field glasses. - -He was a handsome fellow, was Frisky Fox, with his yellow-red coat -shining sleek in the sunlight. And my! How his great plume of a tail -fluffed out behind him! His tail was nearly as long as the rest of his -body put together, and it fluffed out nearly as broadly. Mother Red Fox -certainly had a son to be proud of! - -Of a sudden a little breeze shifted around to where it brought the foxy -one a faint scent. It told his keen black nose there was something down -there besides the bush. - -It wasn't a mouse, either! - -"No, sir, that's no field mouse," said Frisky's nose, as the Red Fox Pup -circled to windward of the tiny squeaking sounds. - -"That's the Boy at the Valley Farm! That's what that is! Now I'll just -pretend not to see him at all till I get behind that rock, then I'll -race for the woods." - -For Frisky didn't know that the thing the Boy was pointing at him was -only a pair of field glasses. And it wouldn't have made much difference -even had he known. Frisky did not like to be watched. He therefore did -exactly as he had planned, crossing the field with seeming lack of -interest in anything save the purple and yellow of asters and golden-rod -and the scarlet of woodbine, and the blue of the Indian summer sky, till -he felt himself out of range. - -At the instant of his discovery that it was one of those dangerous human -creatures that sat there like a stump he had cocked his ears sharply and -leaped fully two feet into the air in his surprise. - -That was the only sign he made, however, of the extreme anxiety that set -his heart to thumping, till he was just on the edge of the woods; then -he suddenly looked back with one of his thin, husky barks, to know why -the Boy should have tried to fool him. - -But afterwards, from the shelter of the barberry vines that fringed the -old stone wall, he peered and peeked and wondered about it all as long -as the Boy remained. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER VIII.--STEEP TRAILS. - - -These hot days in August, when the trout took to the very deepest, -coldest pools they could find, and hid themselves all day under the -over-hanging rocks, and every creature that couldn't take to the water -longed for rain, Fleet Foot used to lead her little family up the steep -trails to the top of Mount Olaf or some near-by mountain-top, where the -wind blew cool night and day. - -These trips were full of much joy for the fawns, for there was all the -spice of adventure in following a winding hoof-path that led--they knew -not where. For one never knew what might be just around the next turn. - -How their hearts thumped when they came suddenly to the edge of a -precipice, where they could look down at Beaver Brook tumbling over the -rocks away, 'way down below I Or perhaps they could get just a glimpse -of Lone Lake lying gleaming in the hollow of the hills. - -Not that there was any trail in the real sense of the word. - -Left to themselves, they could not have told one rock from another, save -here and there where a bit of mica gleamed silver against the gray, or a -scraggly pine leaned too far out over a ledge to look safe. - -But to their mother their trail was as plain as the nose on your face. -It was just a matter of turning and twisting, here to pass between those -two queer-shaped boulders, and there to go around that flat rock which -teetered alarmingly beneath one's feet. She had been over it all so many -times that she had learned the look of each new turn of the pathway. Had -so much as one pinnacle been out of place, she would have known,--and -wondered why. - -One still, sunshiny morning, after they had drunk their fill at a cool -green pool of Beaver Brook, they started up the mountain-side for a day -under the shade of the last fringe of evergreens before one came to the -bare, rocky ridges, where it got too cold for anything to grow, except -in sheltered crevices. - -The fawns danced and capered to the music of the bird song that filled -the woods, while Fleet Foot cropped all sorts of delicious -tid-bits,--now a clump of oyster mushrooms growing shelf-like on a -fallen log, and now a bunch of blue-berries, plump and juicy and -sun-sweet. Life was one long holiday. - -One misty morning, as Fleet Foot was leading them in great bounds -through the tall meadow grass, the fawns came to a sudden stand-still, -their eyes popping with surprise. For they had just barely escaped -stepping on the writhing coils of a great long snake. - -Their bleat of fear brought Fleet Foot instantly. - -"Pouf! That's only a garter snake," she reassured them, with one glance -at the length-wise stripes (yellow and dark gray). "That's nothing to be -afraid of. The only kind you want to look out for is the kind with -cross-wisp stripes. I don't believe there is more than one snake in all -the North Woods that is poisonous,--and there are at least a dozen that -are perfectly harmless." - -"What is the poisonous one?" bleated the trembling fawns. - -"The rattler. But you won't see one of those in a year's time,--not in -these woods, where it gets so cold in winter. They love it hot and dry, -and so of course they live mostly out West, though you do find a few -sometimes among the rocks on the warm south side of a mountain." - -"Oo! What if we'd meet a rattler?" shivered the fawns. - -"Well, he'd warn you before you went too near." - -"Warn us?--How?" - -"He'd rattle, of course. He has a little set of bones on his tail that -he can rattle, and when you hear that, you need to look out, and get -away quickly." - -"Are the others really harmless, Mother?" - -"Harmless to fawns. That is, they have no poison bite. Snakes do a lot -of good, eating pests." - -"But I don't like snakes," insisted the tinier fawn. - -"Well, neither does Mother. But it's so silly, children, to be afraid. -Where is that garter snake? Gone, to be sure! And even the rattler only -strikes because he thinks you are going to kill him." - -The fawns were very thoughtful after that. "Mother," they finally -bleated, "Seems as if even the meanest creatures in the woods had _some_ -use." - -"That's right," their mother answered them. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER IX--THE OGRE OF THE AIR. - - -It was one of those breezy days when white wind clouds piled up against -the sky, and patches of shadow traveled across the mountain-sides. - -Fleet Foot had decided to take the fawns to Mountain Pond, in the pass -between Mount Olaf and Old Bald-face, a peak that had been burned bare -of trees by a forest fire, and now grew nothing much save blue-berries -for the bears to feast on. - -Fleet Foot wasn't a bit afraid of bears at this time of year, knowing -how greatly they prefer a vegetarian diet, though, at that, she didn't -intend to go too near. (After all, the steep gulch of Beaver Brook Bed -lay between the two mountain-sides.) - -They had a lovely time at the Pond, where they met several other does, -with their fawns, and the youngsters played together while their mothers -gossiped over their cuds. The cool breeze ruffled their fur -delightfully, and they found enough shade in the patch of woods that -huddled in the head of the gulch. - -As the sun neared the tops of the purple peaks that faded away to the -west, the little group started back down the trail to where there was -more herbage to browse upon, Fleet Foot lingering along to allow the -fawns plenty of time to pick out a sure footing. For it was their first -trip over this particular trail. - -Carefully they wound over a great over-hanging boulder, on the edge of -which they paused to peer, with braced hoofs, over the precipice, which -here dropped sheer to the rocks below. Just beyond, the first falls of -Beaver Brook dashed green-white over the ledges. - -Then Fleet Foot hurried on to the foot of the falls, where one might -take a shower bath in the spray. - -"Come on, children," she whistled over her shoulder, her eyes on the -path ahead. And the tinkle of the falling water filled her ears till she -could not have heard their foot-steps following, had she tried. - -But fawns will be fawns. And the youngsters stopped to watch a queer -shadow that now danced across their path. Cloud shadows they had watched -all day, but this one was different. In the first place, it was such a -tiny thing,--for a cloud. And it danced about in the most amusing -manner,--much faster than any cloud shadow they had seen before. In -fact, it seemed to be going around and around them in big circles. And -it looked exactly as if the little cloud had wings like a bird. - -Alas for two such little helpless ones!--Had they but looked above their -heads, instead of at the circling shadow, they would have discovered -that it was a giant bird that made it. In short, it was Baldy the Eagle, -the ogre of the air,--and an ogre that especially delighted in having -fawn for supper! - -An ugly fellow was Baldy, with his great curved beak and his great -yellow claws. His body alone was bigger than that of the fawns, and his -wings spread out like the wings of an aeroplane. He was mostly a muddy -brown, with white head and fan-spread tail, and he smelled horribly -fishy, for he isn't a bit particular about what he eats, and frequently -stuffs himself so full of the spoiled fish he finds on the shore that he -can't even fly. - -The air hissed to his wings. - -He waited now till he felt that Fleet Foot was surely too far away to -come to their rescue, should he attack the fawns. For he knew from -experience that with her sharp hoofs she could put up a fight he would -rather not face. - -For a while he wandered if he should just simply drop down upon one of -the little fellows and pin his talons into his back, and fly away to his -nest. But it would be awfully heavy to carry and of course it would kick -and wriggle, 'till like enough he would be unable to manage his -feathered aeroplane, and they would run into some jagged rock. - -If the fawns had been orphans, he might have killed one right there, and -no one would have interfered. - -But they were not orphans, and their mother would come racing back and -cut him to pieces with those knife-edged fore-hoofs. - -Ha! An idea popped into his ugly old head.--He would scare one of the -fawns off the edge of the precipice, and it would leap to its death on -the rocks below; and then he could wait till Fleet Foot had gone, for -his feast. - -Swooping lower and lower, while still the foolish fawns stared -innocently at the dancing shadow, he suddenly flapped his wings about -the tinier fawn, startling him terribly, but not enough to make him back -off the cliff. - -Stronger measures must be tried,--and there was no time to waste; for at -the fawn's first bleat of terror, Fleet Foot heard and was now leaping -like the wind, back the trail to his rescue. - -Swooping again, Baldy began beating the little fellow with great heavy -blows of his middle wing joints. It hurt dreadfully, and the frightened -fawn turned first this way, then that, in his endeavor to get away. -Nearer and nearer the edge of the precipice he crowded. Now one hind -foot had actually slipped off the rock face, and he had to struggle to -regain his balance. - -Then the one thing happened that could have saved him. Fleet Foot -reached the spot. Rearing furiously on her hind legs, she struck at -Baldy's head with her sharp hoofs, tearing great wounds in his scalp. -Then, with a scream of rage and pain, he raised his wings and slanted -swiftly upward, wings hissing, to his granite peak. - -The fawn was not seriously hurt,--only terribly frightened. His back was -bruised, but that would heal, and he would be none the worse for his -experience. - -But where was the other fawn?--They found him wedged in between the -boulders,--the one place where he could ever have escaped the beat of -those wings. Fleet Foot praised him mightily for having so much sense, -and he felt quite cocky,--though of course his brother was the real hero -of the day. - -One other danger marred their summer. - -Every now and again, as they were passing beneath some low-hanging -branch, they would catch a glimpse of a tawny form flattened along the -limb, watching them with pale yellow eyes that gleamed through narrowed -lids. - -Perhaps it would be in a deep, dark hemlock thicket, or a cedar swamp, -that they would meet the giant cat. - -He was a ferocious-looking fellow, was Old Man Lynx, with his great, -square, whiskered face, and his ears with their black tassels and the -black stripe down the middle of his back. And my, how his claws crunched -the bark as he sharpened them! How his whiskers twitched and his mouth -watered as the fawns passed beneath him! He seemed all teeth and claws. - -Perhaps the little family would be drowsing peacefully in the shade of a -long September afternoon when suddenly some spirit of their ancestors, -(or was it some guardian angel of their antlered tribe?) would whisper -"Danger!" and set their fur to rising along their spines in a cold -shiver of nameless fear. - -Had Old Man Lynx ever really put it to the test, he could have won out -with Fleet Foot. But he knew the sharp drive of her little hoofs, and he -was terribly afraid of pain. (Did he not wear a great scar in his side, -due to an adventure of his rash young days, when a fat buck had given -him a rip with his antlers?) - -Perhaps that was why Fleet Foot always raced away in a wide curve that -presently brought her back to where she could peer curiously at the -invader of her solitude, without herself being seen. - -She used to spy in the same way on Old Man Red Fox, and Frisky, his -promising young hopeful. - -In fact, what with Frisky spying on the fawns, and the fawns watching -Frisky, these children of hostile tribes kept pretty close track of one -another. - -The summer passed on the whole, however, with no more adventure than the -sound of the lonely "Hoo-woo-o-o-o" of a loon at twilight, or the sudden -whirr of a startled pheasant's wings, or a quarrel between some wicked -red squirrel caught robbing a crow's nest. (Or was it a crow that had -robbed the squirrel's little hoard, and was getting handsomely scolded -for his villainy?). - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER X.--WILD GRAPES. - - -It had been one of those cool, crisp days when the sun shone just warm -enough to feel good to the furred and feathered folk. Frisky, the Red -Fox Pup, had been creeping up on a flying squirrel, who sat nibbling the -ripe berries of the Solomon's Seal with her three little ones beside -her, when the entire family took alarm and went leaping back to the -beech-nut tree. - -Now Frisky had not reached the age of six whole months in vain. He had -sharp eyes, and he used them. And he had never seen a squirrel that -could spread sail like that. He felt that his eyes must have deceived -him. - -He forgot his surprise at the very next turn of the trail, when he -suddenly spied a tangle of wild grape vine that hung in a canopy of the -luscious purple clusters over the stag-horn sumac. - -Frisky Fox had never seen wild grapes before, though he had often passed -the vines when the fruit was green. Now his keen little nose told him -enough to make him eager for a taste. - -But the fruit hung just too high. Leaping into the air, he occasionally -got a nibble from the low-hanging bunches. But these only served to whet -his appetite for more. - -To add to his discontent, Fairy the Flying Squirrel suddenly sailed down -from a tree-top, alighting on the very top of the grapevine canopy. And -there she perched saucily and munched and sucked at grape after grape -before his very eyes. - -This was too much for Frisky. Around and around the vines he circled, -screwing up his courage for a leap. - -He finally discovered a place where the vine hugged a slanting tree -trunk, and he climbed as far as he could. - -The next instant Fairy had sailed back to her branch as easily as if she -had been laughing at him. But Frisky didn't mind that. It would take -just a stretch of his neck and his jaws would close on a great cluster -of the fragrant fruit. - -If young Frisky Fox had only been content with that one taste, all might -have been well. But just beyond was a larger bunch. Frisky gave a leap, -landing on his tip-toes on crossed vines. But the vines parted beneath -his weight, and down he plunged--almost to the ground, but not quite. -Not far enough for a foot-hold. - -And there he hung, head downward, hind legs tangled in the vines, unable -to better his position! - -My, how he writhed and squirmed, and bit at the vine that shackled him! -But to no avail! He was a prisoner, just as surely as if he had been -tied with a rope. Little his brains availed him now. - -If any one had asked young Frisky Fox, as he hung head downward from -that grapevine, what he thought of the situation, he would have said it -couldn't be worse. - -Yet it speedily became worse,--so much worse, indeed, that Frisky -redoubled his efforts to free himself,--though he had an awful feeling -that it was no use. - -It was Tattle-tale the Jay who warned him. - -Tattle-tale kept pretty close track of all that went on in the forest, -and then told all he knew. - -So many times had he flown ahead of Frisky Fox, screaming at the top of -his lungs: "A Fox! A Fox! Beware!" that Frisky had come to dread the -sound of his voice. - -This time Tattle-tale, who played no favorites, was doing Frisky a good -turn, but the little fox was in no position to appreciate the fact. - -"Look out, there! Look out, everybody," Tattle-tale was screaming. "Old -Man Lynx is coming!" - -"Old Man Lynx!" squeaked Shadow Tail, the Red Squirrel, making for his -hole in the oak tree. - -"OLD MAN LYNX, Mammy, Old Man Lynx!" squealed Timothy Cottontail, -hopping madly for a hollow log. - -"Old Man Lynx!" grunted Unk-Wunk, the Porcupine. "A lot I care!" And he -rolled himself up into a prickly ball in the top of a swaying birch -tree. - -"Old Man Lynx!" thought Frisky Fox, fairly beside himself with frenzy. -Hanging there heels uppermost in the grapevine, he was as helpless as a -mouse in a trap. And here was the great cat, his ancient enemy, -creeping, creeping, creeping through the shadows, his nose sniffing this -way and that for the scent that would tell him where to find a good -supper. - -Another moment and out of the tail of his eye he saw the great, heavy, -bob-tailed cat, with his cruel face, squared off with a fringe of -whiskers that framed his chin, and sharp ears tasseled with little tufts -of fur at their tips. - -The yellow eyes gleamed evilly as Old Man Lynx caught sight of Frisky -hanging there so helplessly, and his grizzled gray-brown fur rose along -his spine. - -Now he was wriggling along the ground flattened out like a snake. Now he -was creeping up the tree trunk as silently as a shadow, and now he was -gathering his legs beneath him for the leap that would land him squarely -on Frisky Fox. - -Frisky knew that one crunch of those gleaming teeth would end it all, so -far as the Red Fox Pup was concerned. - -But Frisky had a trick up his sleeve. His wits were still in working -order. - -"What a pity!" sighed Shadow Tail, the Red Squirrel, as he peered from -his hole in the oak tree. - -For Old Man Lynx had no objection what-ever to having fox for supper. -The only objection he had to foxes was that he could never catch one. - -For to look at poor Frisky Fox, his red-brown fur still soft and silky, -his black feet tapering so delicately and his white throat exposed, it -didn't seem as if he had a show in the world of escaping the huge cat. - -But Old Man Lynx was stupid. He had nothing but his powerful muscles and -his murderous teeth and claws, whereas Frisky had the nimble wit of one -who lives by being both hunter and hunted. - -And even as he waited for the leap for which he saw the Lynx preparing, -he thought of a way out of both the grapevine and the danger he was in. - -The next instant the Old Man gave one of his blood-curdling screeches, -by which he so often paralyzed his prey with fright. Then he dropped to -the branch just above, claws out for Frisky Fox. - -But the very instant his heavy form touched the tangled vines, they gave -way beneath him, and he, too, went crashing down in a net-work that held -him fast. And, what's more, his huge weight loosed the vines that held -Frisky prisoner. - -But wait! With his great steel claws the giant cat wrenched himself -free. Frisky made for a clump of greenbriar, for his leg had gone to -sleep, and he couldn't run right till it had had time to wake up. - -Was Old Man Lynx to get him after all? - -There was only one reason why he didn't--he had no great fondness for -brambles. Cats, wild and tame, are mighty fond of their own skins, and -Old Man Lynx was no exception. He'd have to be mighty hungry before he'd -either scratch his fur out or get it wet. - -While Old Man Lynx thought it over, Frisky Fox was certainly not -standing still. Not Frisky! He was struggling so hard to tear himself -free that the brambles were all trimmed up with little tufts of his -tawny coat. - -That the gray form crouched so near him meant to spring he could easily -guess, and his heart thumped so loudly in his furry chest that he could -hardly breathe. Eyes straining wide with fright, as he tugged this way -and that, (for he was really caught fast again), he suffered far more -from terror than from the pain of the brambles. His leg was awake now, -and with one last twinge he wrenched himself loose. - -At the same instant the great gray cat launched itself almost upon him. - -But Frisky was too quick for it. By the time Old Man Lynx had reached -the spot, Frisky was tearing down the slope. - -Now lynxes have poor eyesight. Following their nose is their one best -guide. Of this Frisky was aware, as his mother had told him so. - -He could hear the great cat scrambling after him at a terrific pace. But -he was going too fast to try any dodges, for one stumble and the other -would be upon him. If it had been Mother Red Fox, she could have laughed -at her pursuer. But Frisky was only a pup, remember, and his short legs -had all they could do to keep ahead of such a big fellow. - -Just as he was beginning to wonder how long this would keep up, he -recalled something else his mother had taught him. Lynxes cannot swim. -At least, they won't. The river was just off to the left, and with a -quick turn and a sidewise leap that might or might not throw the Old Man -off his scent, he dashed for the water. - -On the very brink of the moonlit current, he suddenly remembered one -thing more. The last time he had tried that swim he had let his tail get -so wet and heavy that he had only reached the other bank by hanging on -to his father's brush. Now there was no one to tow him. Should he risk -it, or was he safer where he was? - -To cross or not to cross, that was the question before him. - -If he trusted his fate to the current, he might drown. And if he -remained on the same side with Old Man Lynx, he might meet another fate. - -There was but a heart's beat to decide. - -Ah! What was that dark object just upstream? Could it be a log? What -luck! Frisky veered to the right, his long agile leaps once more -outdistancing the merciless form behind him. - -He reached the log. Alas, it reached only half way across! But he raced -that half. Then one of his powerful forward leaps and he had landed -within easy swimming distance of the other shore! - -Old Man Lynx stood raging on the bank he had left, afraid to risk it. -His disappointed screech sent shivers along Frisky's spine, but he knew -he was safe. - -Pup-like, no sooner was his mind relieved of worry than he burrowed into -an old gopher hole and fell fast asleep. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER XI.--SPECKLED TROUT. - - -The still warmth of Indian summer passed, with its dreamy days and its -crisp nights ablaze with twinkling stars. - -And Fleet Foot left the fawns to shift more and more for -themselves,--though they still followed her about. At first they were -puzzled and a little hurt by her growing indifference. Then, as they -began to feel the strength of their coming buck-hood, they began to -enjoy their taste of freedom. - -Indeed, the little rascals even began to watch the bucks, (their big -cousins and uncles), who were returning in little bands from their -summer's wanderings. Someday they, too, would have those lordly antlers, -and they, too, could join their bachelor explorations, while the does -and younger fawns remained safely behind in the low-lands. - -Now no longer could they hear Vesper Sparrow trilling in the meadows and -locusts twanging in the tree-tops. The brook beds were drying, 'and the -deer now pastured along the sedgy shore-line of Lone Lake or splashed -knee-deep in the shallows, while here and there the scarlet of a maple -told of approaching winter. - -No longer did the gabbling of countless ducks fill their ears when the -pink sunsets tinted the Lake. Instead, there were many V-shaped flocks -constantly migrating to the Southland, where the waters would not -freeze. - -Now it was that the speckled trout, whom all summer long they had -watched flashing silvery through the shallows, began putting on their -coats of many colors.--At least the bride-grooms did. The prospective -brides remained a quiet brown, for reasons the fawns were soon to learn. -(For October is the month when trout start housekeeping together.) - -In the early summer the fawns had watched these same finny fellows -racing and leaping up the water-falls to the rapids. With the long, hot -days, they had taken to the deep, shadowy pools--those watery caverns -that afford such peaceful coolness everywhere along Beaver Brook. - -Now as the woods turned red and gold, the trout changed their cream -colored vests to the most vivid orange, which looked gay enough with -their red and white fins. - -Their coats were still olive-green, mottled with darker splotches, and -on their sides the green melted into yellow, with the little red spots -and speckles that give the trout their name. - -Their thousands of tiny scales were like suits of mail,--which came in -very handy when they fought, as you shall see. - -Now the fawns noticed that the larger and brighter colored fish were -prospecting around in the shallows, where the water ran fastest, -shoveling the gravel about with their bony noses, aided by their tails. -Each trout soon had a little nest scooped out in the stream bed, and -over it he stood guard, (or perhaps we ought to say swam guard), -defending his homestead against all comers. - -Sometimes a larger trout would come by and try to steal the nest of a -smaller fish; and then what a fight they had! How they butted each other -about, ramming each other's soft sides, and even, at times, biting each -other on the lip. It must have hurt dreadfully, because each trout had a -mouthful of the sharpest teeth, that turned backward, so that when they -caught a worm he was hooked as surely as he would be on the end of a -fish-line. - -In trout-land, you know, it is the father of the family that makes the -nest. He it is who wears the gayest clothing, too,--because if the -mother were too bright colored, her enemies could see her on her nest. - -Once the nests were ready the mother trout came swimming upstream and -promptly set to work filling them with leathery yellow-brown eggs, which -they covered with gravel so that no pike or other cannibal of the -river's bottom could find and make a breakfast off of them. - -The fawns marveled as they watched, day after day, till at last the -trout all went back into deep water for the winter, leaving the eggs -behind them. And Fleet Foot explained how, next spring, each leathery -brown egg that had escaped the cannibal fish and the muskrats would be -burst open by the baby trout inside, and out would wiggle the teeniest, -weeniest troutlet you can possibly imagine! - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER XII.--THE VICTOR. - - -One evening when the frost lay glittering in the moonlight, the fawns -were suddenly awakened, in their soft beds of drifted leaves, by a loud -belling down on the lake shore; and wide-eyed, they tip-toed down to see -what it meant. - -There on the muddy beach--stamped with long lines of little cloven hoof -prints--stood a handsome buck, with polished antlers, dancing about as -if too full of energy to stand still. - -Now the fawns had never seen their father, for he had been killed by a -hunter. And the other bucks of the herd had been rambling about all -summer 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 woods -pranced another buck, belling a saucy challenge to a fight. Fleet Foot -withdrew to a safe distance, as did the fawns, and watched admiringly as -the 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 antlered -heads in the pride of their strength, the two bucks bellowed their -battle 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 either -of 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 first -buck gave a shrill snort of defiance. - -Straightway the pair began dancing a sort of war-dance around each -other. 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 opposite -side of the lake,--a couple of yearling bucks with proud spikes of horns -and three with two-pronged antlers. - -Around and around the two combatants tip-toed, heads flung back, chins -in air. Then they lowered their antlers like shields, and Fleet Foot's -champion 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, antlers -against antlers. Their sharp hoofs fairly ploughed the ground as they -strove and struggled and pushed each other about, the very whites of -their eyes showing in their rage. - -"There's ginger for you!" thought the fawns. - -Now the fighting pair were shouldering each other about roughly with -their horns, lips foaming, gasping for breath,--almost locking horns in -a butting match. At last the first buck lifted his knife-edged forelegs -and 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 had -had enough. - -The victor now turned for the look of admiration he felt he ought to -find in Fleet Foot's eyes. But instead, he barely caught a glimpse of -her dancing away through the thicket, with just one merry backward -glance to see if he would race her. - -But he knew where to follow; for there was the faintest, loveliest -perfume on the air where she had passed. - -The fawns gazed after the pair, as they disappeared, then found -themselves alone. All that month, while the woods turned from scarlet -and yellow to brown and gray, and the nights grew frosty under the -stars, the fawns were left very much to their own devices. But they were -well capable of looking out for themselves at this time of year, for -they found a beech wood and began fattening on the beech nuts against -the increasing chill. - -Their coats were changing from tawny red to bluish gray, and their fur -thickening to keep a layer of warm air next their skins. There were -coarser hairs growing out as well, that helped to shed the rain. Their -new fur glistened in the sunshine, and the fawns raced and hurdled in -the keen air, and took running high jumps to work off their surplus -energy. - -Then Fleet Foot and the winning buck returned, and with them came two of -the young bucks who had watched the battle. The six ranged happily from -cranberry bog to evergreen swamp, feasting, feasting, feasting on -mosses, lichens, anything and everything that grew, till their sides -rounded with their winter plumpness, and a layer of warm fat lay just -underneath their skins. - -But with the first powdering of snow came a new danger. The hunting -season had opened, and to the huntsman our little family meant merely a -few pounds of venison for his table, and the pride of a pair of antlers -to hang his gun upon. - -To the buck, however, one little bullet might in an instant rob him of -life and the keen joy of his airy speed, and all the glad wonderful -world 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's -thunder stick, he led his little herd to a distant cedar swamp, where -they were soon joined by other groups as nervous as themselves at this -new 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 his -life.--And sometimes he never came back! But Fleet Foot and her five -pulled 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 active -preparations for the on-coming winter. Already there were chill, drizzly -days when all the world looked gray. - -The former rivals now chewed their cuds together as peacefully as you -please, the bucks sleeping on one side of the thicket, the does and -their fawns on the other. - -Then came a big surprise for the fawns. - -It was a surprise for the Red Fox Pup as well. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER XIII.--THE QUEER FEATHERS. - - -Frisky, the Red Fox Pup, had learned many lessons since the day he so -nearly hanged himself in the wild grape-vines. - -There was the day of the first snow, for instance. - -Awakening one morning, cramped and chilled because he had not lined his -bed deeply enough with leaves to keep off the cold, he peered from his -little den on the hillside with wide eyes. - -The air seemed filled, as far as he could see, with tiny white feathers, -and the ground was covered with them. - -He peered this way and that, wondering what kind of birds they could be -whose plumage was being shed so freely. It must be a flock large enough -to cover the whole sky, he decided, mystified. - -He crept stealthily from the den, afraid, because he did not understand. - -The instant his black feet touched the cold stuff, he leaped high into -the air, with a yip of fright and amazement. But when he opened his -mouth he got a taste of the falling flakes. - -"Ha!" he said to himself, "that accounts for it. It is just rain turned -white." - -Still, he crept warily down to Pollywog Pond for his breakfast, stepping -high, because he hated wet feet. - -Arrived at the pond he stopped for a drink, when his lapping tongue came -plump against a film of something hard and shining that seemed to cover -the water. What could it be, he asked himself, lapping up a mouthful of -the snow-flakes to ease his thirst. (He wisely held them in his mouth -till they had melted, for fear of chilling his stomach.) - -It was certainly very queer. Now the very trees were beginning to be -outlined in white. It made the world look quite a different place. - -As for the deer, they took to a thicket of poplar, birch and spruce, on -which they could feed when the snow lay deep. - -There was one other to whom winter brought a change and that was Old Man -Lynx. - -Now it is very, very seldom that good luck falls right at one's feet -undeserved. - -So Old Man Lynx warned himself when he came upon the muskrat in the -trap. - -Of course the giant cat did not know it was a trap, as he circled around -and around the struggling rat. His green eyes gleamed hungrily in his -tawny face, and he crouched so close to the snow crust that his whiskers -dragged on the ground. His tasseled ears twitched nervously, his stubby -tail thrashed the earth and his claws were bared in a fringe across the -great awkward paws, as he crept nearer and nearer the struggling bait. - -To the nostrils of the cat tribe the musky smell of the water-rat is -most tempting, and his mouth watered till he licked his jaws at thought -of the feast within such easy reach. - -And yet--and yet--some spirit of the wild--some instinct of the dumb -brute who must fight to live--seemed to warn him that where man had -been, there would be trouble for him. And he circled his prey without -quite daring to close in upon it and end its squeaking protest. - -Now the Hired Man at the Valley Farm had not meant the trap for Old Man -Lynx. He had placed it there on the bare chance of there being a wolf at -large in the forest around Mount Olaf. - -As the midwinter dawn deepened from salmon to rose, and the snow began -to glitter in the sun's first rays, Old Man Lynx decided that the thing -was altogether too mysterious to be wholesome. Instead, he trotted down -to Lone Lake, where muskrats were supposed to be. And he promised -himself that even were it too late in the day to catch a rat, he could -at least afford the pleasure of sniffing at the chimneys to their round -houses,--those air-holes in the top, where their musky breath steamed -out, while the rats themselves lay snug and warm within. - -Then, suddenly, just as Old Man Lynx was passing a snow-laden clump of -spruces, he caught a little movement in their lower branches. Circling -till he had the ribbon of the wind in his nostrils, he discovered that -it was a covey of grouse. - -Grouse! How infinitely more delicious than muskrat--more tender even -than rabbit! Now indeed he was glad he had saved his appetite. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER XIV--STARVATION TIME - - -Fleet Foot, the Doe, would never have dreamed of taking her fawns down -to the hay-stack at the Valley Farm, had not the Farmer and his Boy set -her leg the summer before, and gained her confidence by their kindness. - -But, though the herd had selected a south-west slope where the feeding -was good, and though they had trampled the snow till it raised them -higher and higher, and they could browse on the limbs of the fir trees, -it was proving a cruel winter. As blizzard followed blizzard, and bark -and browse alike were frozen stiff, they huddled together, weak with -hunger. - -Then the thought of the big hay-mow provided for the sheep and cattle -proved too much for Fleet Foot, and she resolved to take the fawns, (now -well grown,) slip down under cover of the early winter dusk, and there -help herself to the few mouthfuls she could reach through the bars. For -part of the hay stood in the open meadow, with only a canvas over top to -keep 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 too -timid to make the venture with her. To them it seemed a perilous -undertaking to go so near human-kind. For they had seen many things in -the woods. They had seen the Hired Man with his long black stick that -spoke like thunder, and killed more surely than tooth or claw. They -preferred to starve! - -For Fleet Foot, the dangers of traveling alone with the fawns through -the winter woods were many. First there was the chance of meeting Old -Man Lynx. For now they would not have the protection of the hoofs and -horns of the herd. - -Then they might get lost and freeze, should another storm catch them far -from the herd-yard. But, once having made up her mind, Fleet Foot -whistled to the fawns and started off in a series of long, graceful -bounds 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 that -promised a few mouthfuls of supper, for their empty stomachs fairly -hurt. And if it had been freezing in the herd-yard, with its wall of -snow, and the crowding bodies that helped keep each other warm, imagine -how cold Fleet Foot's little family must have been, out on the open -hill-top! The savage wind and the snow-filled air made it all but -impossible at times to draw breath. - -But worst of all was the shadow of fear that never left the doe's -anxious mother heart. The tree-trunks crackled alarmingly with the -frost, keeping her alert for enemies, and the wind tore savagely through -the brush. Of a sudden Fleet Foot's spine began to prickle! It was one -of 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 the -green-black of the darkness. But they marked their path by the darker -blackness of the clumps of spruce trees, which to their trained instinct -pointed the way like a map. - -Again a chill ran down their spine and the hair raised along the backs -of their necks! Some instinct told them real danger was near--what -danger, 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 that -of a hound, only wilder and more terrifying. Then came another, and a -third. It was an uncanny sound, that of the three gray wolves, watching -from behind the snowy evergreens. - -Fleet Foot knew, more by instinct than experience, what they were, for -their like she had never seen before. Nor had any one in those woods -known a winter when these ravenous beasts had come down out of the -Canadian wilds. But it had been handed down from grand-sire to grand-son -that once, when the snows were uncommonly deep, and half the wild folk -starved and frozen, wolves had come down from the far North in search of -prey. - -There were three of the lean gray shapes, like collie dogs, yet so much -larger and fiercer--large enough to attack even bigger game than Fleet -Foot, the doe. - -Should worst come to worst, she would have no more chance with even one -such foe than a rabbit with a hound. It would all be a matter of which -could 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 a -time, outspeed their enemies, if their strength held out. The combined -hoofs and antlers of the herd might have fought off the beasts for a -time, but the herd-yard was now too far away for Fleet Foot ever to -reach it with the fawns before those lean gray shapes would be at their -throats. The Valley Farm lay straight ahead, and her fear of man shrank -to nothing beside the terrors behind her. - -Yes, the one hope on the horizon lay at the Valley Farm, where the fear -of 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 slip -in the darkness, crippling them and leaving them helpless almost within -sight of safety? - -On and on they ran, and behind them through the forest crept the three -gray shapes, slinking along like shadows with glowing coals for eyes. -Every now and again their barking howl, long drawn out and fearful, tore -the darkness. Could they reach the Valley Farm, Fleet Foot asked herself -with pounding heart? - -It was hard going through the powdery snow, into which she sank -dangerously every time she came to a drift too wide to leap. And the -fawns 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 the -farmhouse. A few more bursts of speed would get them over the fence and -into the pasture lot, and perhaps the wolves would stop at the boundary -of man's domain. But--could they make it? Could they reach that fence -before their grim pursuers? - -Their eyes were fairly popping with the effort they were making. Here -was a mammoth drift that in summer had been a creek, and there a patch -of the higher wind-swept ground where the ice might take their hoofs -from under them. - -Ah! The fence at last! One leap over its smooth pyramid, and with a -sobbing cough, Fleet Foot and the fawns were safe, with the wolves not -ten paces behind! - -Then, suddenly, the door at the farmhouse opened, throwing a long streak -of lamp-light across the snow! - -The wolves slunk back in fear. But so, too, did Fleet Foot. The terror -of the great gray beasts behind her, all her old fear of man flooded -back 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 made -the darkness blacker. What could be its meaning? Curiosity might, at -another time, have conquered fear, but now she was trembling in every -joint, her spent lungs wheezing with the effort she had made. This was -far different from slipping in under cover of darkness as she had -planned. - -"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 the -open 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 his -gun. But at the Boy's sharp command he dropped it, shame-faced. - -Then from farther back in the evergreens came the spine-chilling howl of -the gray wolves, baying their lost prey. - -"Wolves, my son!" exclaimed the Farmer, joining the group in the -doorway. "Wolves from Canada. It's a hard winter that has brought them -down. I don't remember seeing wolves since I was a little shaver, forty -years 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't -frighten them away, or the wolves will get them, sure." - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER XV.--THE GRAY WOLVES. - - -"That's what I heard," exclaimed the Boy at the Valley Farm. "Wolves! -Imagine! I didn't suppose they ever came into these woods." - -"It's been an unusual winter," his father assured him, stepping out into -the snowy barn-yard. "I saw them once when I was ten years old. But I -thought they had been driven away for good. I suppose the rabbits all -froze, up where they come from, and they got so starved they were driven -to it. They've certainly been chasing these deer." - -For as their eyes became accustomed to the snowy darkness, they could -once more see the shadowy forms of Fleet Foot and the fawns by the -hay-mow. - -"It must have been those wolves that I heard ten minutes back," said the -Farmer, rubbing his unmittened hands together. - -"Just see how hollow these poor things look!" exclaimed the Boy. "They -must be starving. Let's go back inside, so they won't be afraid." - -They met the Hired Man just starting forth with his gun. "I'm going for -those wolves," he hastened to explain. - -"That's more like it," said the Farmer. - -Here they were at last, beside the hay-stack, Fleet Foot and her fawns. -And as three disappointed howls arose from the woods at their back, the -famished deer turned to snatch their first ravenous mouthfuls from -between the bars of the crib. They paused in their banquet only long -enough to stare at the Hired Man, as with snow-shoes strapped to his -feet, he strode down the Old Logging Road,--Lop Ear, the Hound, at his -heels. - -"Who-o-o-o!" howled the three gray wolves from the blackness of the -woods. The Hired Man raised his thunder-stick and fired--straight -between a pair of the red eyes that gleamed at him through the night. - -"Yoo-o-o-o!" screamed one of the wolves, as he fell, while the cries of -the other two retreated into the forest. And Whoo Lee, the great barred -owl, could have told you that they carried their tails between their -legs. Their weird voices faded rapidly into the depths of the woods; for -wolves travel fast on their round, furry feet, which spread out beneath -them like round snow-shoes. - -The Hired Man strode on down the Old Logging Road past the charred -trunks which the forest fire had swept,--standing like white ghosts now -in their snowy mantles,--and on nearly to Lone Lake. But never a sign of -the gleaming eyes of the two remaining wolves could he see, though his -ears shuddered at the weird howls that rang down the wind, and Lop Ear -bristled and growled. - -Fleet Foot and the starving fawns nibbled and nibbled at the -hay-mow,--for the time, at least, safe and happy. But could they ever -get back to the herd-yard, with those wolves still at large? - -For once they were in luck. The Hired Man was not the only hunter who -followed the wolves that night. Old Man Lynx, that fierce, furry fellow -with tassels on his ears and claws that could rend like steel hooks, had -also been driven down to the Valley by the winter's famine. He, too, -heard the howling of the wolves. - -He heard the piercing scream of the wolf the Hired Man had shot, and he -knew what it meant. The lynx was hungry, for the storms had lasted many -days, and the rabbits and grouse hens hid away where he could not find -them. On his own wide, spreading paws, therefore, he set out over the -snow to find the wolf that had fallen. His heart was glad at the -unexpected feast in store, and he whined hungrily under his breath. - -Every now and again he had to pause to bite off the icy balls that had -formed under his warm feet. But before ever the Hired Man had turned -back from Lone Lake, Old Man Lynx was peering and sniffing at the wolf -that lay dead. - -One thing he did not know, though. No sooner had the two remaining -wolves raced to Lone Lake, with their tails between their legs, and the -roar of the thunder-stick in their ears, than it occurred to them that -they were still ravenously hungry. And the one that had fallen would go -far toward easing that terrible emptiness that drew their sides together -and made them desperate. (For wolves are cannibals!) - -So, back the horrid beasts came, running on their furry snow-shoes--back -down the wind, which told the noses of these great wild dogs as plainly -as words that Old Man Lynx was there before them. - -"Who-o-o-o," they howled wrathfully, speeding back through the -burnt-wood, over whose ghost-like trunks they leapt in the darkness so -fast that no Hired Man could have shot them had he tried. - -Old Man Lynx raised his whiskered face and yowled an answering -challenge. - -"Ye-ow-w-w!" he screamed at them defiantly. Then he bent his head to -snatch another mouthful of the meat he knew the wolves were on their way -to claim. - -"Ye-ow-w-w!" he screamed again, as the wolf cry swept nearer. This time -he saw two pairs of red eyes gleaming in the darkness. - -"I got here first, and I'll make it hot for the first one that comes -within reach of my claws," he warned them, in tones they understood -without words. - -"We are two to your one!" they answered him. - -Little did Old Man Lynx imagine that he had an ally so near. To him it -was merely a case of having found a meal in the wolf the Hired Man had -shot, and of having the rest of the pack demand it of him. So the giant -cat took his stand, with claws outspread over the prize, his savage face -tense with hate. His green eyes blazed at them through the darkness. - -The cowardly wolves paused just out of reach, neither one of them quite -daring to begin the attack, yet willing to fall in, should the other go -first, for both were wild with hunger. - -Old Man Lynx was not afraid. He meant merely to meet each wolf as he -came, and fight him off with tooth and claw--or if worst came to worst, -he could climb the nearest tree. For the power to climb is the one great -advantage that cats have over all members of the dog tribe. - -Old Man Lynx himself was lean with famine, for the great storm had made -hunting all but impossible for him. Not so much as a wood-mouse had -shown its tracks on the snow for days. And there had been nothing in his -rocky den save the dried and frozen bones of dinners long since past. - -To surrender his supper to-night might mean starvation and actual death -to him. But so it did to the wolves. It was to be a fight for life! - -Now a lynx's claws are like so many little curved swords of poisoned -steel,--and he had five on each foot. He could dig at a wolf's -unprotected sides with his hind legs while his fore legs were clinging -to the throat in which he would try to fasten his fangs. - -The gray wolves knew all this, for Old Man Lynx visited the same -Canadian wilds that they had come from. But even so, in another moment -they had taken the leap--together! And there was more lynx fur flying -than wolf fur--as Whoo Lee, the owl overhead, could have told you. - -Just in the nick of time for Old Man Lynx, the Hired Man returned. When -he heard the shrill chorus of returning wolves, he had hastened back, -his great snow-shoes shuffling their way down the Old Logging Road at a -speed of which he had not known them capable. - -He was not thinking of Fleet Foot and the fawns. But with the barn full -of cattle, it would never do to leave such beasts at large in the -forest. When he heard Old Man Lynx, however, the Hired Man understood -just what was going on. He had not lived in the back-woods for nothing -all his days. And he decided to draw a little nearer, in the hope of -getting another shot or two at the great gray terrors from the North. - - - ---- - - - - -CHAPTER XVI.--THE FARMER'S PLAN. - - -It was thus at the very moment that Old Man Lynx was striking out with -bared claws, and the gray wolves were closing in on him both at once, -that his unexpected ally reached the scene. - -The Hired Man raised his gun, pointing it straight between two gleaming -eyes that shone out in the darkness. He had to do it quickly, they -jumped about so fast. Then a shot rang out on the silent night! - -It singed a streak across the lynx's flank, but it felled the wolf whose -jaws were just about to clamp about his leg. A second shot nicked the -tasseled ear of the great cat fighting so desperately. But it singed the -fur on the neck of the second wolf, just in time to check him, as his -fangs were finding their way through the thick fur ruff that protected -the lynx's throat. At this second shot, the wolf, with a howl of terror, -tucked his tail between his legs and ran. - -The Hired Man hesitated, then decided that the lynx had won the right to -live by his pluck. Thus Old Man Lynx was left, somewhat the worse for -the meeting, but still able to enjoy the rest of his meal; while the -Hired Man, counting the night well spent, shuffled home on his -snow-shoes. But there was still a gaunt gray wolf at large in the -forest--and Fleet Foot and the fawns had still to get back to the -herd-yard before morning found them in the haunts of man! - -But strange things can happen. No sooner had the lone gray wolf fled -from the unexpected slaughter than the wind shifted, and he caught an -odor most agreeable to his palate. For his gaunt sides were so hollow -that every rib showed. It was an odor he had never before followed up. -He had not met it in his Northern wilds, but it smelled porky and -delicious. - -It was on the trunk of a wild apple tree that he found the little round -bristly fellow. And he could see, by the gray light of dawn, that his -black sides bulged with fat, in a winter when all the furry folk were -lean and hungry. - -That alone was puzzling. But what surprised him even more was that this -queer fellow showed no sign of fear. He was singing a little song, all -in one flat key--"Unk-wunk, unk-wunk, unk-wunk." It was a young -porcupine, one of these prickly fellows so like a tiny bear, only with -long black needles instead of fur. The gray wolf did not know how -terrible those needle-like quills can be, when once they get in one's -paw. For they are barbed like a hook on the end, and when they stick -into one, it hurts worse to pull them out than to leave them where they -are. The wood folk that lived around Lone Lake knew enough to leave -Unk-Wunk strictly alone. So, he was never afraid. But the wolf did not -know. And when the little porcupine, instead of climbing higher, out of -his reach, came lazily back down the trunk and began to gnaw the frozen -bark, the wolf thought it was easy game. - -Thus, without so much as wondering what made this strange beast so -fearless, he leaped open-jawed upon the little porcupine. There was just -one howl of agony, as he clamped his jaws on those barbed quills, and it -was not the porcupine who gave it! - -Whining and clawing at his tortured mouth, the wolf rolled about in the -snow-drift, choking and spluttering in mingled wrath and terror. For -Unk-Wunk's terrible barbed quills were working deeper and deeper into -the roof of his mouth. Finally he rolled over on them, and they pierced -through to the brain. That was the last of the great gray wolf that had -come down out of the North to prey upon the forest folk around the -Valley Farm. - -Unk-Wunk, without in the least realizing that he had done so, had -performed a public service. And in particular, he had made it safe for -Fleet Foot and her fawns to go back home to the deer yard in the gray of -the winter dawn. - -"I tell you what," said the Farmer to his son next day. "I've a plan -that I think will interest you." - -"What is it?" asked the Boy, eagerly. - -"Just this: I've plenty of hay this year, (more than enough for the -stock,) and I'm going to pitch a little of it out, after this, every -time the storms make it hard for the deer. I declare, I can't bear to -think of their being so starved!" And he gazed thoughtfully out over the -drifting snow, as he thought how Fleet Foot had braved everything to -reach their hay-stack. - -"Hurray!" shouted the Boy. "May I pitch some out right now? Poor things, -there wasn't much they could reach between the bars," and he gazed at -the dainty footprints the fawns had made the night before. - -The deep, dry snow was followed by a freeze that left a glistening crust -over every drift. Once more Fleet Foot and the rest of the deer could -run nimbly on their spreading hoofs; and young Frisky Fox and Mother -Grouse Hen and Mammy Cotton tail, the brown bunny, could foot their way -across the white expanse in search of food. For they were sure of at -least a fighting chance of getting home again. - -Fleet Foot and the fawns, returning every night to the hay-stack, with a -little band whose sides were as pinched with hunger as their own, now -passed Old Man Lynx without a fear. For where there was footing that -would bear their weight, they knew they could outspeed him. - -Hereafter the snow might whirl and the spruce trees bend and sway in the -wind that wailed through their tops, but the white-tailed deer of the -woods about Mount Olaf were always sure of a little hay to tide them -over the month of hunger. - -"Father," said the Boy, "I've made a birthday resolution. I am going to -befriend every furred and feathered creature in these woods." - -"All of them?" his Father asked. The Hired Man paused in the smoking of -his traps to listen. "You aren't going to tell us we can't do any more -trapping this winter?" - -"You can trap muskrats," said the Boy thoughtfully. "And, of course, -wolves, if any more should come. And weasels--the wicked creatures! They -are only cruel, blood-thirsty ruffians who kill without need, just for -the love of killing." - -"What about Old Man Lynx?" - -"Well, I know he is not popular. But, after all, he's a good mouser. And -we must spare our mousers, the fox and the skunk and the big barn -owl,--for the mice destroy our grain, and I don't know anything muskrats -are good for except their fur. I'm not quite sure about the wild cat, -but he doesn't do much harm, does he, as long as there are fish to be -caught? And he is a good mouser." - -"What about bears?" asked the Hired Man, with one foot on the chopping -block. - -"Never do any great amount of harm," returned the Farmer. "They can -catch mice with the best of them. Besides, they're mostly vegetarians. -It isn't once in a coon's age you'll find one of these black bears that -would harm a baby, if you let him alone." - -"The deer seem awfully afraid of bears." - -"They have a lot more reason for being afraid of men," said the Farmer, -eyeing the Hired Man's gun. - -"And porcupines? What about porcupines?" asked the latter. - -"They mind their own business," spoke up the Boy. "Let them live. You'll -have plenty to do, hunting animals like wolverines and martins and mink -and weasels. But don't any one hurt my friends!" - -Thus Fleet Foot and her fawns were allowed to live happily on, as season -followed season in the good green woods. - - - - - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ADVENTURES OF FLEETFOOT AND -HER FAWNS *** - - - - -A Word from Project Gutenberg - - -We will update this book if we find any errors. - -This book can be found under: http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/35749 - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission -and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the -General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and -distributing Project Gutenberg(tm) electronic works to protect the -Project Gutenberg(tm) concept and trademark. 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