The Adventures of Lightfoot the Deer

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The Adventures of Lightfoot the Deer Page 1

by Thornton W. Burgess




  Produced by Joseph R. Hauser, Juliet Sutherland and theOnline Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Wonderfully handsome was Lightfoot the Deer.]

  LIGHTFOOT THE DEER

  BY

  THORNTON W. BURGESS

  _With Illustrations by__HARRISON CADY_

  GROSSET & DUNLAP

  Publishers New York

  _Printed by arrangement with Little, Brown, and Company_

  COPYRIGHT 1921 BY THORNTON W. BURGESS

  ISBN: 0-448-02741-0 (TRADE EDITION)

  ISBN: 0-448-13721-6 (LIBRARY EDITION)

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICABY ARRANGEMENT WITH LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Dedication

  TO THE MOST BEAUTIFUL OF OUR

  FOUR-FOOTED FRIENDS IN THE GREEN FOREST

  WITH THE HOPE THAT THIS LITTLE VOLUME

  MAY IN SOME DEGREE AID IN THE

  PROTECTION OF THE INNOCENT

  AND HELPLESS

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE

  I PETER RABBIT MEETS LIGHTFOOT 1

  II LIGHTFOOT'S NEW ANTLERS 8

  III LIGHTFOOT TELLS HOW HIS ANTLERS GREW 15

  IV THE SPIRIT OF FEAR 22

  V SAMMY JAY BRINGS LIGHTFOOT WORD 29

  VI A GAME OF HIDE AND SEEK 34

  VII THE MERRY LITTLE BREEZES HELP LIGHTFOOT 39

  VIII WIT AGAINST WIT 44

  IX LIGHTFOOT BECOMES UNCERTAIN 49

  X LIGHTFOOT'S CLEVER TRICK 53

  XI THE HUNTED WATCHES THE HUNTER 58

  XII LIGHTFOOT VISITS PADDY THE BEAVER 63

  XIII LIGHTFOOT AND PADDY BECOME PARTNERS 68

  XIV HOW PADDY WARNED LIGHTFOOT 73

  XV THE THREE WATCHERS 78

  XVI VISITORS TO PADDY'S POND 83

  XVII SAMMY JAY ARRIVES 88

  XVIII THE HUNTER LOSES HIS TEMPER 93

  XIX SAMMY JAY IS MODEST 97

  XX LIGHTFOOT HEARS A DREADFUL SOUND 102

  XXI HOW LIGHTFOOT GOT RID OF THE HOUNDS 107

  XXII LIGHTFOOT'S LONG SWIM 111

  XXIII LIGHTFOOT FINDS A FRIEND 116

  XXIV THE HUNTER IS DISAPPOINTED 121

  XXV THE HUNTER LIES IN WAIT 126

  XXVI LIGHTFOOT DOES THE WISE THING 131

  XXVII SAMMY JAY WORRIES 136

  XXVIII THE HUNTING SEASON ENDS 141

  XXIX MR. AND MRS. QUACK ARE STARTLED 146

  XXX THE MYSTERY IS SOLVED 151

  XXXI A SURPRISING DISCOVERY 156

  XXXII LIGHTFOOT SEES THE STRANGER 161

  XXXIII A DIFFERENT GAME OF HIDE AND SEEK 165

  XXXIV A STARTLING NEW FOOTPRINT 170

  XXXV LIGHTFOOT IS RECKLESS 175

  XXXVI SAMMY JAY TAKES A HAND 180

  XXXVII THE GREAT FIGHT 185

  XXXVIII AN UNSEEN WATCHER 190

  XXXIX LIGHTFOOT DISCOVERS LOVE 195

  XL HAPPY DAYS IN THE GREEN FOREST 200

  ILLUSTRATIONS

  Wonderfully handsome was Lightfoot the Deer. Frontispiece

  FACING PAGE

  "I don't understand these men creatures," said Peter to little Mrs. Peter. 28

  "My, but that's a beautiful set of antlers you have!" 71

  "I tell you what it is," said Sammy Jay to Bobby Coon, "something has happened to Lightfoot." 143

  LIGHTFOOT THE DEER

  CHAPTER I

  PETER RABBIT MEETS LIGHTFOOT

  Peter Rabbit was on his way back from the pond of Paddy the Beaver deepin the Green Forest. He had just seen Mr. and Mrs. Quack start towardthe Big River for a brief visit before leaving on their long, difficultjourney to the far-away Southland. Farewells are always rather sad, andthis particular farewell had left Peter with a lump in his throat,--aqueer, choky feeling.

  "If I were sure that they would return next spring, it wouldn't be sobad," he muttered. "It's those terrible guns. I know what it is to haveto watch out for them. Farmer Brown's boy used to hunt me with one ofthem, but he doesn't any more. But even when he did hunt me it wasn'tanything like what the Ducks have to go through. If I kept my eyes andears open, I could tell when a hunter was coming and could hide in ahole if I wanted to. I never had to worry about my meals. But with theDucks it is a thousand times worse. They've got to eat while making thatlong journey, and they can eat only where there is the right kind offood. Hunters with terrible guns know where those places are and hidethere until the Ducks come, and the Ducks have no way of knowingwhether the hunters are waiting for them or not. That isn't hunting.It's--it's--"

  "Well, what is it? What are you talking to yourself about, PeterRabbit?"

  Peter looked up with a start to find the soft, beautiful eyes ofLightfoot the Deer gazing down at him over the top of a little hemlocktree.

  "It's awful," declared Peter. "It's worse than unfair. It doesn't givethem any chance at all."

  "I suppose it must be so if you say so," replied Lightfoot, "but youmight tell me what all this awfulness is about."

  Peter grinned. Then he began at the beginning and told Lightfoot allabout Mr. and Mrs. Quack and the many dangers they must face on theirlong journey to the far-away Southland and back again in the spring, allbecause of the heartless hunters with terrible guns. Lightfoot listenedand his great soft eyes were filled with pity for the Quack family.

  "I hope they will get through all right," said he, "and I hope they willget back in the spring. It is bad enough to be hunted by men at one timeof the year, as no one knows better than I do, but to be hunted in thespring as well as in the fall is more than twice as bad. Men are strangecreatures. I do not understand them at all. None of the people of theGreen Forest would think of doing such terrible things. I suppose it isquite right to hunt others in order to get enough to eat, though I amthankful to say that I never have had to do that, but to hunt othersjust for the fun of hunting is something I cannot understand at all. Andyet that is what men seem to do it for. I guess the trouble is theynever have been hunted themselves and don't know how it feels. SometimesI think I'll hunt one some day just to teach him a lesson. What are youlaughing at, Peter?"

  "At the idea of you hunting a man," replied Peter. "Your heart is allright, Lightfoot, but you are too timid and gentle to frighten any one.Big as you are I wouldn't fear you."

  With a single swift bound Lightfoot sprang out in front of Peter. Hestamped his sharp hoofs, lowered his handsome head until the sharppoints of his antlers, which people call horns, pointed straight atPeter, lifted the hair along the back of his neck, and made a motion asif to plunge at him. His eyes, which Peter had always thought so softand gentle, seemed to flash fire.

  "Oh!" cried Peter in a faint, frightened-sounding voice and leaped toone side bef
ore it entered his foolish little head that Lightfoot wasjust pretending.

  Lightfoot chuckled. "Did you say I couldn't frighten any one?" hedemanded.

  "I--I didn't know you could look so terribly fierce," stammered Peter."Those antlers look really dangerous when you point them that way.Why--why--what is that hanging to them? It looks like bits of old fur.Have you been tearing somebody's coat, Lightfoot?" Peter's eyes werewide with wonder and suspicion.

  CHAPTER II

  LIGHTFOOT'S NEW ANTLERS

  Peter Rabbit was puzzled. He stared at Lightfoot the Deer a wee bitsuspiciously. "Have you been tearing somebody's coat?" he asked again.He didn't like to think it of Lightfoot, whom he always had believedquite as gentle, harmless, and timid as himself. But what else could hethink?

  Lightfoot slowly shook his head. "No," said he, "I haven't tornanybody's coat."

  "Then what are those rags hanging on your antlers?" demanded Peter.

  Lightfoot chuckled. "They are what is left of the coverings of my newantlers," he explained.

  "What's that? What do you mean by new antlers?" Peter was sitting upvery straight, with his eyes fixed on Lightfoot's antlers as though henever had seen them before.

  "Just what I said," retorted Lightfoot. "What do you think of them? Ithink they are the finest antlers I've ever had. When I get the rest ofthose rags off, they will be as handsome a set as ever was grown in theGreen Forest."

  Lightfoot rubbed his antlers against the trunk of a tree till some ofthe rags hanging to them dropped off.

  Peter blinked very hard. He was trying to understand and he couldn't.Finally he said so.

  "What kind of a story are you trying to fill me up with?" he demandedindignantly. "Do you mean to tell me that those are not the antlers thatyou have had as long as I've known you? How can anything hard like thoseantlers grow? And if those are new ones, where are the old ones? Show methe old ones, and perhaps I'll believe that these are new ones. The ideaof trying to make me believe that antlers grow just like plants! I'veseen Bossy the Cow all summer and I know she has got the same horns shehad last summer. New antlers indeed!"

  "You are quite right, Peter, quite right about Bossy the Cow. She neverhas new horns, but that isn't any reason why I shouldn't have newantlers, is it?" replied Lightfoot patiently. "Her horns are quitedifferent from my antlers. I have a new pair every year. You haven'tseen me all summer, have you, Peter?"

  "No, I don't remember that I have," replied Peter, trying very hard toremember when he had last seen Lightfoot.

  "I _know_ you haven't," retorted Lightfoot. "I know it because I havebeen hiding in a place you never visit."

  "What have you been hiding for?" demanded Peter.

  "For my new antlers to grow," replied Lightfoot. "When my new antlersare growing, I want to be away by myself. I don't like to be seenwithout them or with half grown ones. Besides, I am very uncomfortablewhile the new antlers are growing and I want to be alone."

  Lightfoot spoke as if he really meant every word he said, but stillPeter couldn't, he just _couldn't_ believe that those wonderful greatantlers had grown out of Lightfoot's head in a single summer. "Where didyou leave your old ones and when did they come off?" he asked, and therewas doubt in the very tone of his voice.

  "They dropped off last spring, but I don't remember just where," repliedLightfoot. "I was too glad to be rid of them to notice where theydropped. You see they were loose and uncomfortable, and I hadn't anymore use for them because I knew that my new ones would be bigger andbetter. I've got one more point on each than I had last year." Lightfootbegan once more to rub his antlers against the tree to get off the queerrags hanging to them and to polish the points. Peter watched in silencefor a few minutes. Then, all his suspicions returning, he said:

  "But you haven't told me anything about those rags hanging to yourantlers."

  "And you haven't believed what I have already told you," retortedLightfoot. "I don't like telling things to people who won't believeme."

  CHAPTER III

  LIGHTFOOT TELLS HOW HIS ANTLERS GREW

  It is hard to believe what seems impossible. And yet what seemsimpossible to you may be a very commonplace matter to some one else. Soit does not do to say that a thing cannot be possible just because youcannot understand how it can be. Peter Rabbit wanted to believe whatLightfoot the Deer had just told him, but somehow he couldn't. If he hadseen those antlers growing, it would have been another matter. But hehadn't seen Lightfoot since the very last of winter, and then Lightfoothad worn just such handsome antlers as he now had. So Peter reallycouldn't be blamed for not being able to believe that those old ones hadbeen lost and in their place new ones had grown in just the few monthsof spring and summer.

  But Peter didn't blame Lightfoot in the least, because he had told Peterthat he didn't like to tell things to people who wouldn't believe whathe told them when Peter had asked him about the rags hanging to hisantlers. "I'm trying to believe it," he said, quite humbly.

  "It's all true," broke in another voice.

  Peter jumped and turned to find his big cousin, Jumper the Hare. Unseenand unheard, he had stolen up and had overheard what Peter and Lightfoothad said.

  "How do you know it is true?" snapped Peter a little crossly, for Jumperhad startled him.

  "Because I saw Lightfoot's old antlers after they had fallen off, and Ioften saw Lightfoot while his new ones were growing," retorted Jumper.

  "All right! I'll believe anything that Lightfoot tells me if you say itis true," declared Peter, who greatly admires his cousin, Jumper. "Nowtell me about those rags, Lightfoot. Please do."

  Lightfoot couldn't resist that "please." "Those rags are what is leftof a kind of covering which protected the antlers while they weregrowing, as I told you before," said he. "Very soon after my old onesdropped off the new ones began to grow. They were not hard, not at alllike they are now. They were soft and very tender, and the blood ranthrough them just as it does through our bodies. They were covered witha sort of skin with hairs on it like thin fur. The ends were not sharplypointed as they now are, but were big and rounded, like knobs. They werenot like antlers at all, and they made my head hot and were veryuncomfortable. That is why I hid away. They grew very fast, so fast thatevery day I could see by looking at my reflection in water that theywere a little longer. It seemed to me sometimes as if all my strengthwent into those new antlers. And I had to be very careful not to hitthem against anything. In the first place it would have hurt, and in thesecond place it might have spoiled the shape of them.

  "When they had grown to the length you now see, they began to shrink andgrow hard. The knobs on the ends shrank until they became pointed. Assoon as they stopped growing the blood stopped flowing up in them, andas they became hard they were no longer tender. The skin which hadcovered them grew dry and split, and I rubbed it off on trees andbushes. The little rags you see are what is left, but I will soon be ridof those. Then I shall be ready to fight if need be and will fear no onesave man, and will fear him only when he has a terrible gun with him."

  Lightfoot tossed his head proudly and rattled his wonderful antlersagainst the nearest tree. "Isn't he handsome," whispered Peter to Jumperthe Hare; "and did you ever hear of anything so wonderful as the growingof those new antlers in such a short time? It is hard to believe, but Isuppose it must be true."

  "It is," replied Jumper, "and I tell you, Peter, I would hate to haveLightfoot try those antlers on me, even though I were big as a man.You've always thought of Lightfoot as timid and afraid, but you shouldsee him when he is angry. Few people care to face him then."

  CHAPTER IV

  THE SPIRIT OF FEAR

  When the days grow cold and the nights are clear, There stalks abroad the spirit of fear.

  _Lightfoot the Deer._

  It is sad but true. Autumn is often called the sad time of the year, andit _is_ the sad time. But it shouldn't be. Old Mother Nature neverintended that it should be. She meant it to be the _glad_ ti
me. It isthe time when all the little people of the Green Forest and the GreenMeadows have got over the cares and worries of bringing up families andteaching their children how to look out for themselves. It is theseason when food is plentiful, and every one is fat and is, or ought tobe, care free. It is the season when Old Mother Nature intended all herlittle people to be happy, to have nothing to worry them for the littletime before the coming of cold weather and the hard times which coldweather always brings.

  But instead of this, a grim, dark figure goes stalking over the GreenMeadows and through the Green Forest, and it is called the Spirit ofFear. It peers into every hiding-place and wherever it finds one of thelittle people it sends little cold chills over him, little chills whichjolly, round, bright Mr. Sun cannot chase away, though he shine hisbrightest. All night as well as all day the Spirit of Fear searches outthe little people of the Green Meadows and the Green Forest. It will notlet them sleep. It will not let them eat in peace. It drives them toseek new hiding-places and then drives them out of those. It keeps themever ready to fly or run at the slightest sound.

  Peter Rabbit was thinking of this as he sat at the edge of the dear OldBriar-patch, looking over to the Green Forest. The Green Forest was nolonger just green; it was of many colors, for Old Mother Nature had setJack Frost to painting the leaves of the maple-trees and thebeech-trees, and the birch-trees and the poplar-trees and thechestnut-trees, and he had done his work well. Very, very lovely werethe reds and yellows and browns against the dark green of the pines andthe spruces and the hemlocks. The Purple Hills were more softly purplethan at any other season of the year. It was all very, very beautiful.

 

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