Lightfoot the Deer

It was the evening of the day after the closing of the hunting season for Lightfoot the Deer.  Jolly, round, red Mr. Sun had gone to bed behind the Purple Hills, and the Black Shadows had crept out across the Big River.  Mr. and Mrs. Quack were getting their evening meal among the brown stalks of the wild rice along the edge of the Big River.  They took turns in searching for the rice grains in the mud.  While Mrs. Quack tipped up and seemed to stand on her head as she searched in the mud for rice, Mr. Quack kept watch for possible danger.  Then Mrs. Quack took her turn at keeping watch, while Mr. Quack stood on his head and hunted for rice.

It was wonderfully quiet and peaceful.  There was not even a ripple on the Big River.  It was so quiet that they could hear the barking of a dog at a farmhouse a mile away.  They were far enough out from the bank to have nothing to fear from Reddy Fox or Old Man Coyote.  So they had nothing to fear from any one save Hooty the Owl.  It was for Hooty that they took turns in watching.  It was just the hour when Hooty likes best to hunt.

By and by they heard Booty’s hunting call.  It was far away in the Green Forest, Then Mr. and Mrs. Quack felt easier, and they talked in low, contented voices.  They felt that for a while at least there was nothing to fear.

Suddenly a little splash out in the Big River caught Mr. Quack’s quick ear.  As Mrs. Quack brought her head up out of the water, Mr. Quack warned her to keep quiet.  Noiselessly they swam among the brown stalks until they could see out across the Big River.  There was another little splash out there in the middle.  It wasn’t the splash made by a fish; it was a splash made by something much bigger than any fish.  Presently they made out a silver line moving towards them from the Black Shadows.  They knew exactly what it meant.  It meant that some one was out there in the Big River moving towards them.  Could it be a boat containing a hunter?

With their necks stretched high, Mr. and Mrs. Quack watched.  They were ready to take to their strong wings the instant they discovered danger.  But they did not want to fly until they were sure that it was danger approaching.  They were startled, very much startled.

Presently they made out what looked like the branch of a tree moving over the water towards them.  That was queer, very queer.  Mr. Quack said so.  Mrs. Quack said so.  Both were growing more and more suspicious.  They couldn’t understand it at all, and it is always best to be suspicious of things you cannot understand.  Mr. and Mrs. Quack half lifted their wings to fly.