Produced by Kent Fielden. HTML version by Al Haines.
LIGHTFOOT THE DEER
BY
THORNTON W. BURGESS
CONTENTS
I: Peter Rabbit Meets Lightfoot
II: Lightfoot's New Antlers
III: Lightfoot Tells How His Antlers Grew
IV: The Spirit Of Fear
V: Sammy Jay Brings Lightfoot Word
VI: A Game Of Hide And Seek
VII: The Merry Little Breezes Help Lightfoot
VIII: Wit Against Wit
IX: Lightfoot Becomes Uncertain
X: Lightfoot's Clever Trick
XI: The Hunted Watches The Hunter
XII: Lightfoot Visits Paddy The Beaver
XIII: Lightfoot And Paddy Become Partners
XIV: How Paddy Warned Lightfoot
XV: The Three Watchers
XVI: Visitors To Paddy's Pond
XVII: Sammy Jay Arrives
XVIII: The Hunter Loses His Temper
XIX: Sammy Jay Is Modest
XX: Lightfoot Hears A Dreadful Sound
XXI: How Lightfoot Got Rid Of The Hounds
XXII: Lightfoot's Long Swim
XXIII: Lightfoot Finds A Friend
XXIV: The Hunter Is Disappointed
XXV: The Hunter Lies In Wait
XXVI: Lightfoot Does The Wise Thing
XXVII: Sammy Jay Worries
XXVIII: The Hunting Season Ends
XXIX: Mr. And Mrs. Quack Are Startled
XXX: The Mystery Is Solved
XXXI: A Surprising Discovery
XXXII: Lightfoot Sees The Stranger
XXXIII: A Different Game Of Hide And Seek
XXXIV: A Startling New Footprint
XXXV: Lightfoot Is Reckless
XXXVI: Sammy Jay Takes A Hand
XXXVII: The Great Fight
XXXVIII: An Unseen Watcher
XXXIX: Lightfoot Discovers Love
XL: Happy Days In The Green Forest
CHAPTER I: Peter Rabbit Meets Lightfoot
Peter Rabbit was on his way back from the pond of Paddy the
Beaver deep in the Green Forest. He had just seen Mr. and
Mrs. Quack start toward the Big River for a brief visit before
leaving on their long, difficult journey to the far-away
Southland. Farewells are always rather sad, and this particular
farewell had left Peter with a lump in his throat,--a queer,
choky feeling.
"If I were sure that they would return next spring, it wouldn't
be so bad," he muttered. "It's those terrible guns. I know what
it is to have to watch out for them. Farmer Brown's boy used to
hunt me with one of them, but he doesn't any more. But even when
he did hunt me it wasn't anything like what the Ducks have to go
through. If I kept my eyes and ears open, I could tell when a
hunter was coming and could hide in a hole if I wanted to. I
never had to worry about my meals. But with the Ducks it is a
thousand times worse. They've got to eat while making that long
journey, and they can eat only where there is the right kind of
food. Hunters with terrible guns know where those places are and
hide there until the Ducks come, and the Ducks have no way of
knowing whether 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,
Peter Rabbit?"
Peter looked up with a start to find the soft, beautiful eyes of
Lightfoot the Deer gazing down at him over the top of a little
hemlock tree.
"It's awful," declared Peter. "It's worse than unfair.
It doesn't give them any chance at all."
"I suppose it must be so if you say so," replied Lightfoot,
"but you might tell me what all this awfulness is about."
Peter grinned. Then he began at the beginning and told Lightfoot
all about Mr. and Mrs. Quack and the many dangers they must face
on their long journey to the far-away Southland and back again in
the spring, all because of the heartless hunters with terrible
guns. Lightfoot listened and 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 will get back in the spring. It is bad enough to be hunted
by men at one time of the year, as no one knows better than I do,
but to be hunted in the spring as well as in the fall is more
than twice as bad. Men are strange creatures. I do not
understand them at all. None of the people of the Green Forest
would think of doing such terrible things. I suppose it is quite
right to hunt others in order to get enough to eat, though I am
thankful to say that I never have had to do that, but to hunt
others just for the fun of hunting is something I cannot
understand at all. And yet that is what men seem to do it for.
I guess the trouble is they never have been hunted themselves and
don't know how it feels. Sometimes I think I'll hunt one some day
just to teach him a lesson. What are you laughing at, Peter?"
"At the idea of you hunting a man," replied Peter. "Your heart
is all right, 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. He stamped his sharp hoofs, lowered his handsome head
until the sharp points of his antlers, which people call horns,
pointed straight at Peter, lifted the hair along the back of
his neck, and made a motion as if to plunge at him. His eyes,
which Peter had always thought so soft and gentle, seemed to
flash fire.
"Oh!" cried Peter in a faint, frightened-sounding voice and
leaped to one side before it entered his foolish little head that
Lightfoot was just pretending.
Lightfoot chuckled. "Did you say I couldn't frighten any one?"
he demanded.
"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 were wide with wonder and suspicion.