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
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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.
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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!