The Story of a Red Deer

by Sir J. W. Fortescue

  CHAPTER II

  Now the very next day the Hind led her Calf away from the combe wherethey lay; and after travelling some little way, they met the mostbeautiful bird that the Calf had ever seen. His plumage was all ofglossy black, which shone blue and green and purple in the sun, whileto set it off he had a patch of pure white on each wing, and a spot ofred above each eye; his tail was forked and bent outwards in twograceful curves, and his legs were feathered to the very heel. He flewtowards them some little way, with an easy noiseless flight, andlighted just in front of them, as handsome a fellow as you will see ina summer's day.

  "Well, good Master Blackcock," said the Hind, "has my lord not moved?"

  "Not a step, my lady," said the bird; "he lieth so quiet as my wifewhen she's sitting, though the flies do worrit mun terrible."

  "Then come along, son," she said. And she led him on and presentlystopped and whispered, "Look." And there he saw such a sight as he hadnever dreamed of; a great Stag nearly twice the size of his mother,with horns half grown and the velvet black with flies, lying downmotionless but for constant twitching of his head. The Calf could notsee how big he was, till presently he rose on to his feet, andstretched himself, throwing his horns right back, with a mighty yawn.Then he stood for a minute or two blinking rather sleepily, but alwaysshaking his head and wincing under the torment of the flies. His backwas as broad as a bullock's and his coat shone with good living; andthe little Calf, looked with all his eyes, for he had made up his mindthen and there to stand just like that and to stretch himself justlike that, when he had grown to be such a fine stag as that.

  But presently the Hind led him away and asked the Blackcock, "Andwhere is my sister?" And the Blackcock led them on, and after a time,to the Calf's delight, they came in sight of two more Hinds andanother little Calf. And all three caught the wind of them and cameforward to meet them. One of the Hinds was very big and grey, and shehad no Calf, but the other was smaller and bright red, and had at herfoot as sweet a little Calf as ever you saw; and it was the smaller ofthe two Hinds that came to them first. Then both of the mothers laidtheir Calves down, and began to talk, but they had hardly exchanged aword, when the old grey Hind broke in.

  "So it's you, Tawny, is it?" she said; "and you have brought a Calfwith you, I see. I suppose I must ask, is it a stag or a hind?"

  "A stag, Aunt Yeld," said the Lady Tawny (for that was the name of ourCalf's mother); "do look at him for a minute. He does look so sweet inhis bed."

  "A stag, is it?" said Aunt Yeld with a little sniff. "Well, I supposeif people must have calves they had better have stags. Ruddy's here isa hind, but I never could see the attraction of any calf myself." ForAunt Yeld, like some old maids (but by no means like all) that have nochildren of their own, thought it the right thing to look down onCalves; and indeed she was rather a formidable old lady. She had twovery big tushes in her upper jaw, which she was constantly showing,and she made a great point (when she was not flurried) of closing theclaws of her hoofs very tight, and letting her hind-feet fall exactlywhere her fore-feet had fallen, which she knew to be the way of astag.

  "And now that you have brought your calves here," continued Aunt Yeld,"I may as well tell you that the sooner you take them away the better,for there is a Greyhen here with a brood, who never ceases to pesterme with enquiries about a poult which she has lost. It's not mybusiness to look after people's poults; if they can't take care ofthem themselves, they had better not have them, I say. The bird's anidiot, I think. I questioned her pretty closely, and she really seemednot very clear whether she had really lost a poult or not."

  But the two Mother-Hinds looked at their calves and said:

  "Poor thing;" and Ruddy's Calf which was feeling perhaps a littlelonely, uttered a plaintive little bleat.

  "Ruddy," said Aunt Yeld severely, "if your child is going to make thatnoise, I really must request you to--bless my heart, there's thatGreyhen again. No, bird, I have _not_ seen your poult."

  And there sure enough was the poor old Greyhen, looking sadly dowdywhen compared with her mate, the Blackcock, with half a dozen fluffylittle poults round her. She was evidently anxious, for she turnedher head so quickly this way and that to keep them all in sight thatit nearly made the Calves giddy.

  "Oh, I beg your pardon, my lady," she said very humbly, and turnedround. But the Lady Tawny walked after her, and asked what was thematter.

  "Oh, my lady," said the Greyhen, "I didn't mean no harm, but do 'eetell me, have 'ee seen my little poult? My lady Yeld axed me so manyquestions that I got fairly mazed, and I've counted my poults timesand times till I hardly know how many they be. For I'm not so young asI was, my lady, and I've brought up many families. My first mate hewas shot, if you mind, my lady; butiful bird he was too. And a pigeonpassed just now and I axed him to count, but they never have but twoeggs in their nestes, he saith, so he can't count more than two. Andthe old Bucky was nigh here, and I axed he. 'Bless your life,neighbour,' he saith, 'my Bunny has so many children that I've a givenup counting.' But it's not for me to stand talking with your ladyship;though there's one poult missing, I'm sure of that."

  "Poor soul," said the Hind very gently, "I am afraid that I have notseen your poult. I am so sorry."

  "Ah! bless your ladyship's kind heart," said the Greyhen. "You wasalways--mercy on us, there 'a is. Stand over them, my lady, formercy's sake, stand over them?" And she crouched close to the groundwith abject terror in her eyes, while the poults, frightened to death,hid themselves all round her.

  For far above them against the glorious blue sky hung a little speck,with quick, nervous wings that fluttered and paused, and fluttered andpaused. And it slanted down to right, and slanted back to left, asthough it had been swung by a cord from the heavens; then it flutteredits wings and paused once more. But the Hind stood over the Greyhenand poults, so that they should not be seen; and all the time theGreyhen kept gasping out little broken words.

  "Oh, they blue Hawks! Oh, they blue Hawks! Oh, the roog! 'Twas he thatdid it--sure enough--Oh, the blue roog!"

  Then the little speck made a great lunge forward, fluttered for amoment, and passed away out of sight; and the Hind stepped back verygently, and said: "Quite safe now. Good-day, mistress. Take care ofthe poults."

  "Bless your kind heart, and good-day to your ladyship," answered theGreyhen. "I have six poults yet, I'm sure 'tis six now, and that's amany to wash and tend and feed; but when they'm grown you may dependthey shall always help your ladyship, if I can teach them. Good-day,my lady, and thank you, and may you have good luck with your blessedlittle son."

  Now all this time you may be sure that the Hind had kept a constanteye towards the spot where her Calf was lying, the more so since shecould see Aunt Yeld peering through the grass at him. So she wentstraight back to kiss him as soon as the Greyhen was gone, lest AuntYeld's grey face might have frightened him; but he wasn't frightenedat her in the least. And Aunt Yeld for two whole steps quite forgot towalk like a stag, and said, "I must do you the justice to observe,Tawny, that he is a very handsome little fellow." Then she turnedaway, blowing out her lips to show her tushes and putting on thestag's gait as nearly as she could, and made a vicious bite at alittle blade of grass, as she had seen Stags bite at a turnip; whichdid not become her pretty neck (for Hinds are always pretty, howeverold) half as much as the graceful nibble which was natural to her. Butit was all make-believe, and if she had spoken her heart she wouldhave said: "I think that your Calf is the greatest darling I ever saw,and oh, how I wish I were you!"

  Then Aunt Yeld turned round and said: "Now you two mustn't think ofgoing. You are not fit to take care of yourselves, so you must staywith me, and I'll take care of you." You see she had quite forgottenwhat she said at first, for she had really a kind heart, thoughnothing could keep her from patronising every one.

  So for many days they lived together, and Aunt Yeld always postedherself up wind of them to keep watch over them; and if our soldiersin their red coats were sentries half as good as she, t
hey would bethe best in the world. Now and again, though very seldom, the greatStag would join them and lie by them all day, chewing the cud andshaking his great head, which grew bigger every day. But he neveruttered a word, unless it was to say, "Very good that growing wheatwas this morning, to be sure," to which the Hind would answer, "I amso glad, dearest;" or it would be, "The turnips on Yarner farm arenot coming on well in this dry weather, I am told; it's very annoying,for I was looking forward to my turnips," and then the Hind would say,"I am so sorry, dearest. How I hope it will rain soon!" For old stagsare perhaps rather too fond of their dinners.

  Once only he showed himself quite different, and that was when one daythe Blackcock flew up to say that all the hills were coming down. Nowthe way the Blackcock got the idea into his head was this. He had beentaking a bath in the dust at the foot of a great sheet of screes, theloose, flat stones on the hill-side which you have often seen on themoor, and had enjoyed it greatly, fluffing out his feathers andflapping his great wings. But while he was in the middle of it aJackdaw came flying overhead, and seeing this great ball of feathersrolling about, pitched down upon the screes to see what strange thingit might be. And as he came hopping down to look at it closer, hedisplaced one little stone, which displaced another little stone, andthat another, until quite a number of stones were set moving, and camerushing down for twenty feet like a tiny cataract, close to theBlackcock's ear. Whereupon the Jackdaw flapped off cawing with fright,and the Blackcock flew away screaming to tell the deer that all thehills were coming down.

  But when he came the old Stag stood up at once and said: "Lady Yeld,take the lead; Ruddy and Tawny, follow her. Steadily now, nohurrying!" Then they moved on a little way and stopped, the Stagalways remaining behind them; for they could see that the hills werenot coming down before them, and therefore they must have begun tofall behind them, if the Blackcock spoke truth. And that was why theStag remained behind, to be nearest to the danger, as a gentlemanshould be. And some day, if you go into the army, you will learn thatin a retreat the rearguard is the post of greatest danger; and youmust read the story of the retreat of Sir John Moore's army to Corunnaand Vigo, and see what great things Uncle Charlie's regiment didthere.

  The Deer stopped for a time, and at last the Stag said: "I can seenothing, hear nothing, and wind nothing. Are you _quite_ sure thehills are all coming down, Blackcock? I think that you must have madesome mistake." For the old Stag was a great gentleman, and always verycivil and courteous. But Aunt Yeld, who was quick of temper, stampedon the ground, and said almost out loud: "Bah! I believe the bird's asgreat an idiot as his wife."

  The Blackcock looked very foolish, and was so much confused that hedid not know what to answer; but the Lady Tawny said kindly: "Thankyou, Blackcock, for coming. You mustn't let us keep you from yourdinner." And though it was not his dinnertime, he was so glad of theexcuse that he flew straight away to his wife, and told her all aboutit. But all she said was: "So you went and told his lordship, did 'ee;and what about me and my poults if the world cometh to an end? It'slike 'ee, it is, to go disturbing her blessed ladyship and her sweetlittle son with your stories. But never a word for me, oh dear me no,who slave for the poults morning, noon, and night; oh dear, oh dear,"and so on for half an hour, till the Blackcock almost made up his mindnever to have a dust-bath again. For the poults had been rathertroublesome that morning, and the Greyhen's temper was a little upsetin consequence. Thus you see that the Blackcock had an unpleasant timeof it; and perhaps it served him right.

  But except on this one occasion the Stag never bestirred himself;behaving very lazily, as I have told you, and never opening his mouthexcept to munch his food or talk of it. He never spoke a word to theCalf, for old stags are not very fond of calves; and you may be surethat the Calf never said a word to him, for he was terribly afraid ofhim; nor was he far wrong, for an old stag, while his head is growing,is almost as irritable as an old gentleman with a gouty toe. The onlydifference between the two is this, that the stag can eat and drink asmuch as he pleases, and do nothing but good to his head, while themore a gouty old gentleman eats and drinks, the worse for his toe. Andit is just because they cannot eat and drink as much as they pleasethat gouty old gentlemen are more irritable than stags; and I for onedon't pity them, for a man is made to think of better things than hisfood and drink.

  But if he could not talk to the Stag, he made great friends withRuddy's Calf, who was the sweetest, gentlest little thing that you canimagine. And though she was a little smaller than he was, she could donearly everything that he could. They ran races, and they tried whichcould jump the higher and which could spring the farther, and she wasas fast and as active as he was. But one day he must needs make hertry which could butt the other the harder. So they butted each othergently two or three times, and he liked it so much that he took agreat run and butted her hard, and hurt her, though he had not meantit. Then she cried, "Maa-a-a! You're very rude and rough. It's a shameto treat a little hind so; I shan't play any more." Of course theysoon made it up again, but his mother told him to remember that shewas only a little hind. And he remembered it, but he could not helpthinking that it was far better to be a little stag.