Lightfoot the Deer traveled on through the Green Forest, straight
ahead in the direction from which the Merry Little Breezes were
blowing. Every few steps he would raise his delicate nose and
test all the scents that the Merry Little Breezes were bringing.
So long as he kept the Merry Little Breezes blowing in his face,
he could be sure whether or not there was danger ahead of him.
Lightfoot uses his nose very much as you and I use our eyes. It
tells him the things he wants to know. He knew that Reddy Fox had
been along ahead of him, although he didn't get so much as a
glimpse of Reddy's red coat. Once he caught just the faintest of
scents which caused him to stop abruptly and test the air more
carefully than ever. It was the scent of Buster Bear. But it
was so very faint that Lightfoot knew Buster was not near, so he
went ahead again, but even more carefully than before. After a
little he couldn't smell Buster at all, so he knew then that
Buster had merely passed that way when he was going to some other
part of the Green Forest.
Lightfoot knew that he had nothing to fear in that direction so
long as the Merry Little Breezes brought him none of the dreaded
man-scent, and he knew that he could trust the Merry Little
Breezes to bring him that scent if there should be a man
anywhere in front of him. You know the Merry Little Breezes are
Lightfoot's best friends. But Lightfoot didn't want to keep
going in that direction all day.
It would take him far away from that part of the Green Forest
with which he was familiar and which he called home. It might in
time take him out of the Green Forest and that wouldn't do at
all. So after a while Lightfoot became uncertain. He didn't know
just what to do. You see, he couldn't tell whether or not that
hunter with the terrible gun was still following him.
Every once in a while he would stop in a thicket of young trees
or behind a tangle of fallen trees uprooted by the wind. There
he would stand, facing the direction from which he had come, and
watch and listen for some sign that the hunter was still
following. But after a few minutes of this he would grow uneasy
and then bound away in the direction from which the Merry Little
Breezes were blowing, so as to be sure of not running into danger.
"If only I could know if that hunter is still following, I would
know better what to do," thought Lightfoot. "I've got to find out."