THE HUNTER LIES IN WAIT
If ever there was an angry hunter, it was the one who had followed
Lightfoot the Deer across the Big River. When he was ordered to get off
the land where Lightfoot had climbed out, he got back into his boat, but
he didn't row back to the other side. Instead, he rowed down the river,
finally landing on the same side but on land which Lightfoot's friend
did not own.
"When that Deer has become rested he'll become uneasy," thought the
hunter. "He won't stay on that man's land. He'll start for the nearest
woods. I'll go up there and wait for him. I'll get that Deer if only to
spite that fellow back there who drove me off. Had it not been for him,
I'd have that Deer right now. He was too tired to have gone far. He's
got the handsomest pair of antlers I've seen for years. I can sell that
head of his for a good price."
So the hunter tied his boat to a tree and once more climbed out. He
climbed up the bank and studied the land. Across a wide meadow he could
see a brushy old pasture and back of that some thick woods. He grinned.
"That's where that Deer will head for," he decided. "There isn't any
other place for him to go. All I've got to do is be patient and wait."
So the hunter took his terrible gun and tramped across the meadow to the
brush-grown pasture. There he hid among the bushes where he could peep
out and watch the land of Lightfoot's friend. He was still angry because
he had been prevented from shooting Lightfoot. At the same time he
chuckled, because he thought himself very smart. Lightfoot couldn't
possibly reach the shelter of the woods without giving him a shot, and
he hadn't the least doubt that Lightfoot would start for the woods just
as soon as he felt able to travel. So he made himself comfortable and
prepared to wait the rest of the day, if necessary.
Now Lightfoot's friend who had driven the hunter off had seen him row
down the river and he had guessed just what was in that hunter's mind.
"We'll fool him," said he, chuckling to himself, as he walked back
towards the shed where poor Lightfoot was resting.
He did not go too near Lightfoot, for he did not want to alarm him. He
just kept within sight of Lightfoot, paying no attention to him but
going about his work. You see, this man loved and understood the little
people of the Green Forest and the Green Meadows, and he knew that there
was no surer way of winning Lightfoot's confidence and trust than by
appearing to take no notice of him. Lightfoot, watching him, understood.
He knew that this man was a friend and would do him no harm. Little by
little, the wonderful, blessed feeling of safety crept over Lightfoot.
No hunter could harm him here.