My hole is right on the edge of Black Ravine. I built it there so I
could watch the sun rise every morning. It’s a beautiful place, even if
I do say so.”
White Tail and Young Black Buck turned to him, and waited impatiently
for him to proceed. Washer was aggravatingly slow. They were not a bit
interested in the beautiful view he had from his hole.
“Black Ravine drops down fifty feet, and if I should ever forget myself
and fall over the edge it would be the last of me,” Washer continued,
deliberately picking his teeth with a twig. “Yes, I told Mrs. Washer
several times it was a beautiful but dangerous spot to bring up our
children. They might tumble into the ravine.”
“Never mind the ravine, Washer,” interrupted White Tail. “You said you
had a way for us to escape. Please tell us what it is.”
“I was coming to that. You’re very impatient, White Tail. And the ravine
has a good deal to do with my plan. It’s twenty feet across from side to
side. Can you jump twenty feet?”
“Why, I don’t know, but maybe if—”
“All right then,” Washer interrupted. “I’ll show you the way to Black
Ravine in front of my house. If Puma or Timber pursue you all you got to
do is to leap across the ravine. Timber couldn’t follow you, and I don’t
think Puma can jump that far. If he couldn’t you’d have a big head
start. Puma and Timber would have to go a mile down the ravine before
they could cross. It’s wider in front of my house than at the ends.”
Washer’s plan dawned upon their minds in an instant, and both bucks
sprang up as if to start for Black Ravine at once.
“We’ll do it!” exclaimed White Tail. “I’ll make the jump if I fall in
the ravine. It’s better that way than to be pulled down by Puma or
Timber.”
“It’s much better not to fall at all,” was Washer’s quiet remark. “But
now don’t get excited, or you’ll jump from the frying-pan into the fire.
How do you know if one of Timber’s family isn’t watching the ravine? He
may be.”
This suggestion dashed their hopes, and sent the cold chills down their
backs. No one could tell where the wolves and pumas were scattered. They
were closing in upon them on all sides. They might surprise the cornered
bucks before ever they could reach Black Ravine.
“The only way I can suggest,” added Washer, “is for Downy to fly ahead,
and report to us where they’re hiding. You could do that, Downy,
couldn’t you?”
“Why, certainly. I’d be glad to.”
“Then I wouldn’t waste any time.”
Downy immediately flew away in the direction of Black Ravine, while
White Tail and Young Black Buck waited impatiently for his return. It
seemed a long, long time to them, and every few moments they could hear
the call of Timber and his pack. They were drawing nearer and nearer
until finally it seemed as if one was in the bushes not a dozen rods
away.
Downy came back finally, and said:
“It’s all right, but you must hurry. They’re closing in so that if you
don’t reach Black Ravine soon they’ll head you off. This way! Follow
me!”
He flew off to the right, but swift as he was White Tail and Young Buck
were hardly a yard behind him. They fairly flew across the ground,
leaping low bushes and trees in their flight. Washer, being much slower,
decided not to follow. He knew another hole where he could hide until
the danger was over.
“Here they come!” screamed Downy suddenly. “Now run for your lives!
There’s Black Ravine ahead!”
At the same instant Timber and his pack broke cover, and started for the
fleeing bucks in the open. Close on their right was Puma and his mate.
They set up a yelping and howling that made the blood of the deer
curdle. It had to be a short race, for other wolves ahead threatened to
cut them off.
But there was Black Ravine. Neither White Tail nor Young Black Buck knew
how wide it was, or whether they could cross it, but when they reached
the edge they shot out in one mighty leap and landed on the opposite
side. Could Puma follow? In the next story you will find out what he
did.
STORY VIII
MRS. PUMA AND TIMBER FIGHT
The leap across Black Ravine carried White Tail and Young Black Buck
away from the yapping jaws of Timber Wolf and his pack. Not one of them
dared to follow. They could no more do it than fly. They stopped at the
edge and howled woefully as they saw their prey escape.
But not Puma the Mountain Lion. He was a wonderful jumper himself and
the sight of the escaping bucks made him wild with rage. Besides, he was
terribly hungry, and he was disappointed in not catching at least one of
the bucks.
When he came to the edge of the ravine he hesitated a minute, snarling,
spitting and whisking his long tail. He was so angry that he knocked one
of the wolves over when he got in his way. For a moment there was a
savage outcry, and Timber threatened to pounce upon Puma’s back; but the
fear of his powerful claws dissuaded him.
“Get away from the edge, you snarling, sniveling sons of cowards!” Puma
growled. “When did a wolf ever bring down a buck in fair play? You howl
and snap, and make a great fuss, but you’re cowards at heart! Let me
show you what a Mountain Lion can do. Back! Back from the edge, I say!”
The wolves obeyed, but not without much snapping of teeth and angry
growls. Puma walked back a few paces, and turned to face the cliff. Then
with a sudden run and spring he took the long leap.
Ordinarily Puma would have hesitated a long time before attempting to
jump across Black Ravine, but he was wild with anger and disappointment.
Besides, he knew Timber and his pack were watching him, as well as his
own mate. He was puffed up with pride to show what he could do.
But, alas! pride had its downfall. Puma had miscalculated the distance.
He realized this before he was half across, and to make up for it he
began squirming and jerking in mid-air as if that would help him. It did
in a way, for cat-like he had the wonderful facility of actually jumping
and leaping forward with his feet off the ground.
[Illustration: TWENTY FEET DOWN, PUMA SAW A SMALL STUNTED TREE]
But it was of no avail. He still lacked sufficient force to carry him to
the other side. He stretched one fore-paw far out, hoping to grasp the
edge, and it did touch the rock, but it only scratched and scraped it.
When he found himself falling downward, he thrust out the other fore-leg
and clawed at the steep side of the cliff. But there was nothing for him
to hold to. The rocks were so hard that his claws could get no purchase.
Down he went another yard. The edge of the cliff was over his head, and
fifty feet below was the hard bottom of the ravine. A fall there would
surely dash out his brains and break every bone in his body.
Twenty feet down, doubling, whirling and screaming, Puma saw a small
stunted tree growing from a cleft in the side. He made one mighty lunge
for this, and caught it. He landed with a thud against it, and clung to
its branches for dear life. He was so shaken by the fall that for a
moment he could do nothing but blink and gasp. The tree had scratched
him in a dozen places, and the hard rocks bruised and hurt his body. One
paw was bleeding, and the other was so sore that he held it up in the
air.
Over his head, some twenty feet, was the top of the cliff, with its
sides so steep that no Puma could hope to crawl up them. Below was the
bottom which seemed equally difficult to reach. Opposite, looking down
at him, were Timber and his family.
“What a lucky fall for you, Puma,” jeered Timber. “And what a poor jump!
White Tail and Young Black Buck cleared it easily, and you couldn’t
cross it! Now, braggart, what are you going to do to get out? You can
hang there and rot before I’ll help you! Ho! Ho! You call my tribe
cowards! Then I call you and yours dirty braggarts! You couldn’t—”
A rumbling growl at Timber’s left caused him to turn suddenly. Puma’s
mate was facing him, with her eyes spitting fire, and her great right
claw raised to strike.
“Son of a coward,” she thundered, “how dare you speak that way to one of
my family! Puma may be caught down there, but you have me to reckon
with!”
Timber immediately saw his mistake. He had forgotten Mrs. Puma, who was
almost as ferocious as Puma. She was smaller, but fully as quick and
lithe. Timber’s manners immediately changed, and he became as meek and
fawning as he was before threatening and defiant.
“I didn’t refer to you, Mrs. Puma,” he whined. “Of course, I know you
are much stronger and quicker than Puma, and—”
“You lie, you sniveling cur!” interrupted Mrs. Puma. “For the tail of a
deer I’d knock you in the ravine for my mate to eat for his supper.”
Timber slinked back from the edge. He knew that one blow from that
upraised paw would send him hurtling through space. But once back from
the edge his manner changed again. Mrs. Puma stood near the edge now,
and surrounding her was the half circle of wolves. All of Timber’s pack
had arrived, and they were as thirsty as he for blood. They were ten to
one.
It flashed through Timber’s mind that this was a good time to settle an
old score with Puma. He had never taken kindly to Puma’s lordly ways in
dividing the hunting ground between them. Puma had always claimed more
than his share of the prey. Sometimes he had eaten three quarters of a
carcass, and only turned over a small portion to Timber’s family.
And they were a hungry family, half starved at times when the hunting
was poor. All his old grievances came back to him, and he felt that here
was a chance to settle the dispute for good. Puma was caught in the
ravine, where he might starve and die. Why not then push Mrs. Puma after
him?
“Oh, Mrs. Puma,” he said, “you flatter me. My family aren’t such cowards
as you think. Just to show you turn around and see them. They’re all
here—the whole pack!”
Mrs. Puma whirled about and saw the semi-circle of snarling, snapping
wolves. Then for the first time in her life she felt afraid. She might
kill two or three of Timber’s family before they conquered her, but
eventually they would drive her over the cliff. But it was no time to
show fear. That would be the signal for the wolves to close in on her.
“I see them—the whole pack,” she snarled. “And every one of them a
coward! Not one dare touch me unless the others push him within reach of
my claws. See, the whole pack jumps and screams when I strike.”
With a vicious drive of her paw she made those nearest leap back in
fear. She followed this up with another drive. Timber saw that, unless
he acted at once, his family would become panic-stricken. Raising
himself on his hind feet ready for a spring, he opened his mouth, and
uttered the hunting cry of the pack. Then at a given signal they
attacked all at once.
They darted forward with yelps of defiance, Timber leading. But what a
surprise awaited them! Mrs. Puma had guessed their actions, and with a
mighty spring in the air she leaped clear over the backs of the
encircling crowd. It was a wonderful spring, and nothing but fear could
have made her do it. It landed her safely back of the wolves.
Then before they could turn and charge again, she took another spring,
and was safe in the branches of a tree. “Some other day, thou dog of a
coward!” Mrs. Puma said. “I’ll sleep here until you get tired of
waiting.”
Having got Mrs. Puma out of trouble we will follow White Tail in the
next story.
STORY IX
YOUNG BLACK BUCK HAS AN ACCIDENT
It is hard work to starve out Puma the Mountain Lion when treed, and
perhaps harder yet to imprison him on the side of a steep cliff. Timber
Wolf knew this, and after the escape of Mrs. Puma up the tree, he grew
uneasy, and decided that it was safer for him to lead the pack back to
their own hunting ground.
When they had gone Mrs. Puma leaped down to the ground, and ran to the
edge of the ravine to see what had become of her mate. She was not
greatly surprised when she saw that he had slowly made his way to the
bottom of the chasm, and was looking up to see where she was. With a
little cry of joy she trotted down to the end of the ravine to rejoin
him.
Meanwhile, of course, White Tail and Young Black Buck were running like
the wind, anxious to get as far away from their pursuers as they could.
They didn’t know what had happened at Black Ravine, and they couldn’t
stop to investigate. The fear that the wolves and Mountain Lions might
still be on their trail kept them going until they were nearly
exhausted.
One mile, two miles, three miles they ran without stopping or looking
around, fear lending speed to their legs. Then something happened which
brought them to a sudden halt. Young Black Buck stumbled, and plunged
headfirst to the ground. When he tried to get up again, he groaned with
pain, and held a fore-leg in the air as if it hurt him.
“Oh, I’ve broken my leg!” he cried. “I can’t run another step. They’ll
catch me now, I know! I can’t escape them!”
White Tail, whose momentum had carried him some distance ahead, stopped
and turned around.
“Let me see it,” he said, sniffing at the leg. After quickly examining
it, he added; “No, it isn’t broken—only sprained. Can’t you stand on
it?”
“No, not for an instant. Oh, what will become of me! Hark! Isn’t that
Puma growling?”
“No,” replied White Tail, listening with his head flung back and his
nose in the air.
“Then it’s Timber calling, I’m sure it is.”
White Tail listened again. He was trembling himself, for the fright and
exhausting run had made him very nervous.
“It’s something, but I don’t think it’s Timber Wolf. He hasn’t had time
to run around the end of Black Ravine.”
“But he’ll be here soon,” whined Young Black Buck.
“Then we must be going. We can’t stay here. You must run on three legs.
You can do it.”
“Not so fast as Timber Wolf or Puma can run on four legs. Oh, you won’t
leave me, White Tail, will you? I shall die of fear if you do. I’ve
always been your friend.”
“I won’t leave you yet,” replied White Tail. “Lie down in the bushes,
and I will run back and see if I can find Timber or Puma. If they’re
coming—”
“Don’t leave me,” interrupted Young Black Buck.
Just then, when White Tail was uncertain what to do, and so nervous that
he couldn’t stand still, Downy the Woodpecker appeared. He fluttered in
a tree just as if he had been there waiting for them all the time.
“Oh, Downy,” cried White Tail, “where are they? Are they on our trail
yet? Did they get across Black Ravine?”
Downy finished hauling a grub out of its hole in the tree bark before he
answered. “No,” he then said, “they didn’t get across Black Ravine, but
Puma got in it. And he’s there now, screaming with rage.”
“He jumped and fell in it?” asked Young Black Buck.
“Yes,” nodded Downy. “He tried to show Timber’s family what he could do,
and he made a pretty sight of himself. He missed the opposite side by a
few inches, and if it hadn’t been for a small tree growing on the rocks
he would have fallen to the bottom, and been killed.”
“I wish he had,” said Young Black Buck.
“Well, he wasn’t,” added Downy, “so it’s no good wishing for what didn’t
happen. He’ll roll down, and get on his feet again. It’s pretty hard to
kill Puma.”
“What did Timber and his pack do?” asked White Tail.
“They did just what you might expect of them. They jeered and laughed at
Puma, and then Mrs. Puma interfered.”
“I thought that Timber and Puma were friends,” said White Tail.
“Such selfish friendship as they had for each other doesn’t amount to
much. It only takes a little for them to fall out and begin fighting
each other. And that’s just what happened. Timber thought it was a good
time to attack Mrs. Puma, and his whole pack jumped at her.”
“And what happened then?” breathlessly asked White Tail.
“Mrs. Puma jumped too, and as she could jump faster and farther than
Timber she got away and ran up a tree. There I left her, with the wolves
howling underneath.”
“I think then they’ll give up the chase,” remarked White Tail. “It’s
very fortunate for us, for Young Black Buck has sprained his leg, and
will have to limp the rest of the way.”
“I can’t limp far on three legs,” whined Young Black Buck. “And we are
far away from the herd, aren’t we, Downy?”
“Yes, so many miles I can’t count them. You’ve been running away from
where you started, and it will take you a long, long time to get home.”
White Tail and Young Black Buck were greatly distressed by this
information, for night was coming on, and to be caught after dark away
from the herd in the heart of a strange woods was a most unpleasant
outlook. White Tail might have made it by hard running, but Young Black
Buck could never do it, and White Tail wasn’t going to leave him alone
in the woods. He was too loyal for that.
“There doesn’t seem to be any choice in the matter,” White Tail said.
“We’ve got to stay here, and make the best of it.”
“But you could get home alone, White Tail, if you started right away,”
suggested Downy. “It will be moonlight early in the evening, and you can
find your way once you reach the shallow stream.”
“Yes, I know the way, but I couldn’t leave Young Black Buck behind. No,
I couldn’t think of it. We’ll find a resting place among the bushes, and
stay here until morning. Then maybe his leg will be better.”
Downy nodded his head, and began pecking away at the bark of the tree
for another grub. Young Black Buck looked thankfully at the speaker, but
said nothing.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you soon,” Downy remarked after a while.
“I’m a long distance from my home, and I don’t see that I can help you
any by staying.”
“No,” smiled White Tail, “except to give us warning of danger when it
comes.”
“There’s no danger now unless—”
He stopped and listened attentively.
“Unless what, Downy?”
“I don’t know that I should say it, for I don’t want to frighten you,
but there are man hunters in this woods. They’ve pitched a camp a few
miles back of here. But if they haven’t dogs with them they won’t find
you. Just keep quiet here in the bushes until morning.”
“We certainly will,” replied White Tail. “I dread the man hunters as
much as Puma and Timber, especially if they have dogs.”
And all through the night, he thought and dreamt of the man hunters, but
nothing happened until morning, and then the distant baying of a dog
startled him.
STORY X
WHITE TAIL’S MAGNANIMOUS ACT
White Tail could not mistake the sound of the dogs in the distance.
Neither could Young Black Buck, who was instantly on his feet. The dread
sound had more to do in curing the sprained foot than the night’s rest,
and he followed White Tail, trotting around and sniffing the air in
every direction.
“Are they coming this way?” Young Black Buck asked.
“It’s hard to tell,” replied White Tail. “I haven’t picked up their
scent yet, but I don’t need to. I hear them.”
“We must be going before they find us.”
“Is your lame leg strong enough?”
“Yes, it’s all right again—a little lame, but not much. Which way shall
we go?”
Unconsciously Young Black Buck had been depending upon White Tail ever
since danger first threatened them, and this was a sure sign that he
recognized qualities of leadership in his rival that he did not possess.
And White Tail had accepted it without giving it much thought.
“I think,” he said finally, “they’re off to the right where Downy said
the white hunters had their camp. Then we should go to the left.”
“But that will take us to the hunting grounds of Puma and Timber Wolf,”
protested Young Black Buck.
“Yes, I know, but we can swing around north of them before we reach
their woods. At any rate we can’t run right into danger.”
White Tail took up the lead, and Young Black Buck followed. They stole
away in the woods almost as silently as shadows. A well worn trail led
into the darkest and thickest part of the forest, and as this kept going
straight away from the man hunter’s camp they stuck close to it.
“Maybe this is Puma’s trail,” Young Black Buck remarked after they had
gone a considerable distance. “No deer have been this way.”
“No, of course not. This isn’t our woods, but Puma hasn’t been here. I
could smell him.”
“Then Timber Wolf and his pack made it.”
“No, it hasn’t Timber’s smell either.”
White Tail had his nose close to the ground, and while he couldn’t quite
make out whose trail it was he felt confident that it wasn’t that of
either Puma or Timber.
Still it is always dangerous to follow an unknown trail. It’s against
the law of the herd for the leader to do so, and had White Tail known it
he would have taken to the thick woods. But he thought he was doing
right, for it was much easier to travel faster in this way.
He was jogging along cautiously when the trail became suddenly very
strong and fresh. He stopped and flung up his head. That animal odor
that had caught his nose, startled him.
But the sight which met his eyes startled him more than the strange
odor. There standing directly in the broad trail, grinning at them, was
Buster the Bear. What a shock it gave him! Buster seemed to tower up so
big that he looked like a giant of a bear.
With a snort of fear, White Tail turned and sprang out of the trail,
clearing a clump of bushes in a beautiful jump, and calling to Young
Black Buck to follow. The latter didn’t need this advice, for he was
already out of the trail, running for dear life.
Now back in the broad trail, Buster, who had been nearly as much
surprised as they, suddenly roared with glee, his fat sides shaking and
wobbling. “Ho! Ho!” he laughed. “What a scare I gave them! And I didn’t
open my mouth. I wonder what they’d done if I’d roared like this.”
He let out a roar that shook the leaves off the bushes, and made White
Tail and Young Black Buck run harder than ever. To them it seemed as if
that roar was trying to catch them, and they couldn’t dodge its echo.
But, of course, Buster wasn’t pursuing them. In the first place, he knew
he couldn’t overtake them, and in the second he wasn’t particularly
hungry and rarely killed deer or bucks. He was too kind-hearted for
that. But he did enjoy a joke, and he thought it was a huge one to scare
them half out of their wits.
White Tail and Young Black Buck ran without knowing which way they were
going. In fact they might have run straight into the camp of the man
hunters if they hadn’t been stopped by the sudden baying of the dogs.
This time the dogs were so close that they couldn’t expect to throw them
off their scent. In fact, one of them saw White Tail’s head, and
immediately gave the signal. He rushed for them with wild yelps of
delight, and two others followed him.
The two bucks swung around in another direction, and ran pell-mell
through the woods. The fear of the dogs made them forget Buster. Indeed
White Tail realized his mistake now. He knew that Buster could not
overtake him in a race, but the dogs of the man hunters might. They
would follow them night and day until exhaustion killed one or the
other.
“We’re in for it now,” White Tail said to his companion, breathing hard.
“The dogs are fresh, and we’re not. We must find a river to throw them
off our scent.”
But finding a river in a strange woods was not an easy thing to do. So
far as they knew there was no river there. They were completely turned
around, and hardly knew which direction to take to reach home.
Young Black Buck soon began to show signs of weariness, and his lame leg
hurt him again. In vain White Tail urged him on, but he couldn’t run any
faster. The dogs would certainly soon overtake him.
Then White Tail did a magnanimous thing. He couldn’t bear to leave his
companion behind to be pulled down by the dogs, while he escaped. No,
no, that would never do for one who some day expected to be leader of
the herd!
“Young Black Buck,” he said, running along by the side of the panting
creature, “you run straight on as hard as you can. I’m going to stop
here until the dogs see me. Then I’ll lead them off to the left. So long
as they can see me they’ll follow me and forget the scent. When I get
them far enough away I’ll run faster, and get away from them. You
understand?”
Young Black Buck nodded his head. He was too tired to reply in words.
“Then go on! I’ll wait here until the dogs come up.”
It was a risky thing to do, but White Tail felt that alone he could
outrun the dogs. At any rate he was going to do that much for his
companion.
He didn’t have long to wait. The baying hounds soon appeared, and
catching sight of White Tail they started for him with yelps of delight.
White Tail sprang away in the bushes, but not so fast that the dogs lost
sight of him. He noticed that all three were chasing him. Then, when
some distance away from the fork in the trail, he increased his speed.
In a very short time he was out of sight again, but the hounds were on
his scent. They had lost Young Black Buck’s, and there was no chance of
their picking it up again.