The Story of a Red Deer

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The Story of a Red Deer Page 10

by Sir J. W. Fortescue


  CHAPTER IX

  Our Deer was so much pleased with himself after his escape that hebegan to look upon himself as quite grown up, and hastened back to themoor as soon as October came to find himself a wife. I needn't tellyou that it was his old play-fellow, Ruddy's daughter, who had beenborn in the same year as himself, that he was thinking of; and he soonfound that she wished for nothing better. But most unluckily the oldStag, whose squire he had been, had also fallen in love with her, andwas determined to take her for himself. He would run after her allday, belling proposals at the top of his voice; and his lungs were somuch more powerful than our Deer's that, do what he would, our friendcould not get a word in edgeways. At last the Hind was so much boredby the noise and the worry that she made up her mind to steal awaywith our Deer quietly one night, and run off with him under cover ofthe darkness; which was what he had long been pressing her to dowhenever he could find a chance.

  So off they started together for the quiet valley to which theWild-Duck had shown him the way when he was still a yearling with hismother; for there he knew that they would be undisturbed and alone,which is a thing that newly-married couples particularly enjoy. And Imay tell you that if ever you hear of a stag and hind that havestrayed far away from their fellows to distant coverts, you may bequite sure that they are just such another young couple as this of ourstory.

  Of course he took her everywhere and showed her everything in thevalley, explaining to her exactly how he had baffled the hounds therea few weeks before. And he tried hard to find the Salmon who hadhelped him so kindly, but he could not light upon him anywhere, norfind any one who knew where he was gone. The Wild-Ducks were gone toother feeding-grounds, and the only people whom he could think of whomight have known were a pair of Herons that roosted in the valley; butthey were so dreadfully shy that he never could get within speakingdistance of them. Once he watched one of them standing on theriver-bank as still as a post for a whole hour together, till all ofa sudden his long beak shot down into the water, picked up a littlewriggling trout, and stowed it away in two seconds. Then our Stag (forso we must call him now) making sure that he would be affable aftermeals, as people generally are, trotted down at once to talk to him.But the Heron was so much startled that he actually dropped the troutfrom his beak, mumbled out that he was in a dreadful hurry, and flewaway.

  But, after they had lived in the valley a month or more, there came abitter hard frost, and to their joy the Wild-Ducks came back to theriver saying that their favourite feeding-ground was frozen up. Thebest chance of finding the Salmon, they said, was to follow the waterupward as far as they could go. So up the two Deer went till thestream became so small that they could not imagine how so big a fishcould keep afloat in it, but at last catching sight of what seemed tobe two long black bars in the water they went closer to see what thesemight be. And there sure enough was the Salmon with another Fishbeside him, but he was as different from his former self as a stag inOctober is from a stag in August. The bright silver coat was gone andhad given place to a suit of dirty rusty red; his sides, so deep andfull in the summer, were narrow and shrunken; and indeed the biggestpart of him was his head, which ended in a great curved beak, notlight and fine as they had seen it before, but heavy and clumsy andcoarse. He seemed to be in low spirits and half ashamed of himself,but he was as courteous as ever. "Allow me to present you to my wife,"he said, "though I am afraid that she is hardly fit to entertainvisitors just at present."

  Then the other Fish made a gentle, graceful movement with her tail,but she looked very ill and weak, and though she had no great beaklike her mate she seemed, like him, to be all head and no body.

  "But, my Lord Salmon," said the Stag, "what has driven you so far upthe water?"

  "Well, you see," said the Salmon in a low voice, "that my wife is veryparticular about her nursery; nothing but the finest gravel will suither to lay her eggs on. So we came up and up, and I am bound to saythat we have found a charming gravel-bed, and that the eggs are doingas well as possible; but unfortunately the water has fallen low withthis frost, and we cannot get down again till the rain comes. Onlyyesterday a man came by and tried to spear me and my wife with apitchfork, but luckily he slipped on the frozen ground and fell intothe water himself, so that we escaped. But she was very muchfrightened, and till the frost breaks we shall still be in danger. Donot stay here, for it is not safe; and besides I am ashamed to seevisitors when we are in such a state."

  "But what about the eggs, my Lord Salmon?" said the Stag.

  "The stream will take care of them; and if a few are lost, what isthat among ten thousand?" said the Salmon proudly. "But let me beg younot to wait."

  So the Deer went down the valley again, hoping that the West windmight soon come and drive away the frost, for the Salmon's sake aswell as for their own. And a few days later they were surprised tomeet the old Cock-Pheasant from Bremridge Wood, who came runningtowards them, very gorgeous in his very best winter plumage, butrather nervous and flurried.

  "Why, Sir Phasianus," said the Stag, "what brings you so far fromhome?"

  "Well, the fact is," said the Pheasant, "that I did not quite like thelook of things this morning. Some men came round early while I wasfeeding in my favourite stubble, and began beating the hedges to driveme and all my companions back into my wood. Most of those foolishChinese birds flew back as the men wanted them, but I have not livedall these years for nothing, so I flew up the valley and have beenrunning on ever since. Hark! I thought that I was right."

  And as he spoke two faint reports came echoing up the valley; "pop!pop!" and then a pause and again "pop! pop!" a sound which was strangeto the Deer.

  "That's the men with their guns," said the cunning old Bird, "they arebeating my wood, and that's why I am here. To-morrow they will bethere again, but the next day I shall return, and I hope to have thepleasure of receiving you there very shortly after." And he ran upinto the covert and hid himself under a bramble bush on a heap of deadleaves, so that you could hardly tell his neck from the live leaves orhis body from the dead.

  The Deer would not have thought of accepting his invitation, for theywere very comfortable where they were, but that a few evenings laterthe air grew warmer and the South-West wind began to scream throughthe bare branches over their heads. Then the rain came down and thewind blew harder and harder in furious gusts, till far away from themat the head of the covert they just heard the sound of a crash; andnot long after a score of terrified bullocks came plunging into thecovert. For a beech-tree on the covert fence had come down, smashingthe linhay in which the bullocks were lying, and tearing a great gapin the fence itself; which had not only scared them out of theirsenses but had driven them to seek shelter in the wood. And the Deergot up at once and moved away; for they do not like bullocks forcompanions, and guessed that, when the day came, there would be menand dogs wandering all over the covert to drive the bullocks back.

  So they went down the valley and into Bremridge Wood. The oldCock-Pheasant was fast asleep high up on a larch-tree when they came,but when the day broke he came fluttering down in spite of the rain,and begged them to make themselves at home. For the pompous old Birdwas so full of his own importance that he still considered himself tobe master of the whole wood and the Deer to be merely his guests. Ofcourse they humoured him, though their ancestors had been lords ofBremridge Wood long before his; so the Stag complimented him on thebeauty of his back, and the Hind told him that she had never seen solovely a neck as his in her life. But still he seemed to want morecompliments, though they could not think what more to say, until oneday he turned the subject to dew-claws; and then he asked the Hind whyher dew-claws were so much sharper than the Stag's and why theypointed straight downward, while the Stag's pointed outwards, rightand left. Now these were personal questions that he had no business toput, and indeed would not have put if he had been _quite_ a gentleman.But before the Hind could answer (for she had to think how she shouldsnub him without hurting his feelings _too_ much) he went on:
r />   "And by the way, talking of dew-claws I don't think I have ever showedyou my spurs." And round he turned to display them. "You will agreewith me, I think," he continued, "that they are a particularly finepair, in fact I may say the finest that you are ever likely to see."

  And certainly they were very big for a pheasant, more than half aninch long, curved upward and sharp as a thorn. "I find them veryuseful," he added, "to keep my subjects of this wood in order. Whenthe Chinese Cocks first invaded my kingdom they were inclined to berebellious against my authority, but now I am happy to say that theyknow better." And he strutted about looking very important indeed.

  Now about a week after this there was a full moon, and there cameflying into the wood a number of Woodcocks. The Deer thought nothingof it, for they had often seen as many, and were always delighted towatch the little brown birds digging in the soft ground and washingtheir beaks in the water. But on the second morning after theirarrival a Jay came flying over their heads, screeching at the top ofhis voice that there were strangers in the covert, and presently theold Cock-Pheasant came running up in a terrible fluster, not at alllike the king of a wood.

  "It's too bad," he said, "too bad. They have been here twice already,and they have no business to come again." And as he spoke there camethe sound which they had once heard before, the pop! pop! of adouble-barrelled gun, but this time much nearer to them, and much morealarming. The Stag jumped to his feet at once and called to the Hindto come away.

  "But you can't get away," said the old Pheasant, half angry, butalmost ready to cry. "I have already tried to run out in half a dozenplaces, but wherever I went I met an odious imp of a Boy tapping twosticks together; and really a Boy tapping two sticks together is morethan I can face. How I hate little Boys! But I won't stand it. I'llrun back through the middle of them, and then I declare that I'llnever enter this wood again. It's really past all bearing."

  And he turned and ran back, but soon came forward again. "It's nouse," he said, "I shall run up over the hill and take my chance. But Ivow that I'll never enter this wood again. It's high time that theyshould know that I won't stand it."

  So off he ran again, but the Deer waited and listened; and they couldhear behind them a steady tapping of sticks along the whole hill-side,which came slowly closer and closer to them. And every creature in thewood came stealing forward round them, Rabbits and Cock-Pheasants andHens and Blackbirds and Thrushes, and a score of other Birds, dodgingthis way and that, backward and forward, and listening with all theirears. The Deer went forward a little way, but presently aCock-Pheasant came sailing high in the air over their heads. Theywatched him flying on, vigorous and strong, till all of a sudden hishead dropped down, and his wings closed; and as he fell with a crashto the ground they heard the report of a gun ring out sharp and angrybefore them. Then they hesitated to go further, but other shots keptpopping by ones and twos behind them, till at last they turned up thehill as the Cock-Pheasant had turned, and began to climb steadilythrough the oak-coppice.

  As they drew near the top of the hill they heard more tapping justabove them, and going on a little further found the old Cock-Pheasantcrouching down just below a broad green path. And on the path abovehim stood a little rosy-cheeked Boy in a ragged cap, with a coat fartoo big for him and a great comforter which hung down to his toes,beating two sticks together and grinning with delight. The Deerthought the Pheasant a great coward not to run boldly past so small acreature, but, as they waited, there came two more figures along thepath and stood close to the Boy; and the Stag remembered them both,for they were the fair man and the pretty girl whom he had seen whenhe was a calf. The man looked a little older, for there was now alittle fair hair, which was most carefully tended, on his upper lip,and he held himself very erect, with his shoulders well back and hischest thrown out. There he stood, tall and motionless, with his gun onhis shoulder, watching for every movement and listening for everyrustle, so still and silent that the Deer almost wondered whether hewere alive. The girl stood behind him, as silent as he; and the Stagnoticed as a curious thing, which he had never observed in thembefore, that both wore a scarf of green and black round their necks.But her face too had changed, for it was no longer that of a girl butof a beautiful woman, though just now it was sad and troubled. Hereyes never left the figure of the man before her except when now andagain they filled with tears; and then she hastily brushed the tearsaway with something white that she held in her hand, and looked at himagain.

  But all the time the tapping behind them came closer and closer, andthe shots rang louder and louder, till at last the Deer could stand itno longer, and dashed across the path and up over the hill. As theypassed they heard the man utter a loud halloo, and in an instant theold Cock-Pheasant was on the wing and flying over the trees to crossthe valley. He rose higher and higher in the air, and presently fromthe valley below came the report of two shots, then again of twoshots, and once more of two shots; and they heard the fair man laughloud after each shot. But the old Bird took not the slightest notice,but flew on in the sight of the Deer till he reached the top of theopposite hill, where he lighted on the ground, and ran away as fast ashis legs could carry him.

  Then the Deer too crossed the valley further down, and stood in thecovert watching. And they saw a line of men in white smocks beatthrough the covert to the very end, while the fair man and the girlwaited for them in the field outside. But presently another man cameriding up on a pony, and then all the men with guns came closing roundthe fair man and seemed unwilling to let him go. But after a shorttime he jumped on to the pony and trotted back along the path wavinghis hand to them, while they waved their hands to him. Presently hestopped to look back and wave his hand once more, and the girl wavedher white handkerchief to him, and then he set the pony into a gallopand disappeared. But the other men went on, and the girl turned backby herself very slowly and sadly. Then the shots began to ring outagain in the valley, and the Deer went away over the hill to the woodwhence the bullocks had driven them, and finding all quiet made theirhome therein once more.

 

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