Wonderfully handsome was Lightfoot the Deer as he stood in the
little opening by the pond of Paddy the Beaver, his head thrown
back proudly, as he received the congratulations of his neighbors
of the Green Forest who had seen him win the great fight with
the big stranger who had come down from the Great Mountain.
To beautiful Miss Daintyfoot, peeping out from the thicket where
she had hidden to watch the great fight, Lightfoot was the most
wonderful person in all the Great World. She adored him, which
means that she loved him just as much as it was possible for her
to love.
But Lightfoot didn't know this. In fact, he didn't know that Miss
Daintyfoot was there. His one thought had been to drive out of
the Green Forest the big stranger who had come down from the
Great Mountain. He had been jealous of that big stranger,
though he hadn't known that he was jealous. The real cause of his
anger and desire to fight had been the fear that the big stranger
would find Miss Daintyfoot and take her away. Of course this was
nothing but jealousy.
Now that the great fight was over, and he knew that the big
stranger was hurrying back to the Great Mountain, all Lightfoot's
anger melted away. In its place was a great longing to find Miss
Daintyfoot. His great eyes became once more soft and beautiful.
In them was a look of wistfulness. Lightfoot walked down to the edge
of the water and drank, for he was very, very thirsty. Then he
turned, intending to take up once more his search for beautiful Miss
Daintyfoot.
When he turned he faced the thicket in which Miss Daintyfoot was
hiding. His keen eyes caught a little movement of the branches. A
beautiful head was slowly thrust out, and Lightfoot gazed again
into a pair of soft eyes which he was sure were the most
beautiful eyes in all the Great World. He wondered if she would
disappear and run away as she had the last time he saw her.
He took a step or two forward. The beautiful head was
withdrawn. Lightfoot's heart sank. Then he bounded forward into
that thicket. He more than half expected to find no one there,
but when he entered that thicket he received the most wonderful
surprise in all his life. There stood Miss Daintyfoot, timid,
bashful, but with a look in her eyes which Lightfoot could not
mistake. In that instant Light-foot understood the meaning of
that longing which had kept him hunting for her and of the rage
which had filled him when he had discovered the presence of the
big stranger from the Great Mountain. It was love. Lightfoot knew
that he loved Miss Daintyfoot and, looking into her soft, gentle
eyes, he knew that Miss Daintyfoot loved him.