Chapter 3

He had expected to have a pleasant time showing his new antlers to his old friends. When he met Dodger the Deer, Nimble called to him: "See what I've got! Antlers! Two points!"

"Ho!" said Dodger. "So have I got antlers. And they have two points, too."

Nimble had been so interested in his own horns that he hadn't looked at Dodger's. And now when he gazed at them he saw that they were like his.

"What about the rest of the Spike Horns?" Nimble asked Dodger. "Have they----"

"Yes, they have!" Dodger interrupted. "I tell you, 'two-pointers' are common this season."

"So there aren't any more Spike Horns!" said Nimble somewhat sadly.

"Oh, yes! Plenty!" Dodger answered. "But they're an entirely new crop. They were fawns last year."

When he heard that bit of news Nimble felt happier. And as soon as he parted from Dodger the Deer he went and found some of the new Spike Horns and showed them his wonderful two-point antlers.

But somehow they didn't seem at all impressed. They were too much taken up with their own spikes to pay any attention to Nimble.

"Anyhow," he said to himself, "we 'two-pointers' can have some good mock battles together."

And they did. They had mock battles that became famous all around Blue Mountain. And of all the "two-pointers" that lived in that neighborhood, Nimble and his friend Dodger the Deer were known as the best sham-fighters. They could look fiercer and act angrier than any of their young friends. And the way they tore into each other was almost enough to frighten you, if you had seen them.

Old Mr. Crow said it was worth flying a mile to watch one of their set-tos.

XV

A MOCK BATTLE

When Nimble had three-points on each of his antlers, in his fourth summer, he felt that he was at last grown up. He was now a "three-pointer." Some of the older bucks had no more points than he. Many of them were but "four-pointers." His own father had been a "five-pointer." So Nimble hoped, secretly, that he would have five-point antlers in another two years.

As soon as his new horns were ready Nimble and his friend Dodger the Deer began their mock battles again. And Nimble found them greater fun than ever.

Dodger was a spry fellow. He was quick as a flash at dodging. When Nimble ran at him with head lowered and horns aimed straight at him Dodger could wait until Nimble all but struck him, before leaping aside. And then Nimble would go rushing past him.

But Dodger did not always dodge when attacked. Sometimes he stood his ground, with his own head lowered in a threatening fashion. And then Nimble checked his headlong rush and merely clashed his horns pleasantly against Dodger's.

There was something about the sound that sent a thrill through Nimble and started his coat to bristling along his backbone with a queer, creepy feeling.

One day in the fall Nimble's mother came upon them in the woods when they were having one of their sham fights.

"You'd better stop that!" she said to them severely. "Somebody will get hurt sooner or later if you're not careful."

Nimble and Dodger paid little heed to her warning, except to stop until the good lady had gone on and left them. Then, just as they were on the point of renewing their frolic, somebody spoke in a hoarse voice. It was old Mr. Crow. He sat on a low branch of a spreading pine, where he had been watching the contest for some time without being noticed.

"I'd have my fun if I wanted to," he croaked. "Ladies are too finicky. They don't know what a good time is."

Now, Mr. Crow's remarks pleased Nimble. And they pleased Dodger the Deer. They didn't know that the old gentleman was a famous trouble maker.

So Dodger and Nimble drew a little distance apart, as they always did when they were getting ready to clash.

"Go it!" squalled Mr. Crow.

And they started. And Mr. Crow jumped up and down in his excitement.

"Now there's going to be some real fun," he muttered.

But Dodger the Deer leaped aside just in time to avoid being hit. And that didn't please Mr. Crow at all.

"You fellows aren't half trying," he cried impatiently. "Anyone would think you were a pair of Spike Horns."

Now, all Spike Horns were two whole years younger than Dodger and Nimble. So it was no wonder that Mr. Crow's words stung them.

Nimble charged more fiercely than ever. And Dodger stood his ground. With his feet planted firmly beneath him he waited for the blow.

There was a crack and a thud.

"Ha!" Mr. Crow squawked. "That's a little more like it. Dodger didn't dodge that time, to be sure. But he stood still. And only a Spike Horn would stand and _wait_ for the enemy."

Of course Dodger couldn't help wanting to show Mr. Crow that he knew how to carry on a mock battle. So the next time Nimble rushed at him Dodger did not wait. He jumped to meet Nimble. They struck in the air with a frightful crash and fell sprawling upon the ground.

"Ha! That's more like it!" Mr. Crow applauded. "That's the sort of mock battle I like to see!"

XVI

MR. CROW LOOKS ON

Nimble and his friend Dodger the Deer picked themselves up off the ground where they had fallen after their collision in the air. They did not feel any too pleasant. One of Dodger's sharp tines had given Nimble a good prick. And one of Nimble's points had stung Dodger like a hornet's sting.

If only one of them had been pricked the whole affair might have ended differently. For then perhaps only one of them would have lost his temper. As they drew apart they were growing more angry every instant. And when they wheeled and glared at each other old Mr. Crow, who was watching them from his perch in the pine tree, called out: "Don't stop! Make it lively, now!"

Nimble gritted his teeth and stamped upon the ground.

"I'll teach you not to prick me!" he muttered.

"I'll make you wish you'd left those new antlers at home!" cried Dodger the Deer.

"Don't stop!" old Mr. Crow urged them once more as he teetered on his perch. "Let the fun go on!"

He squalled so loudly that his cousin Jasper Jay heard him half a mile away and came hurrying up to see what was going on. He arrived just in time to see Nimble and Dodger stagger back from another mad charge.

"What's this? A mock battle?" Jasper Jay inquired as he settled down beside Mr. Crow.

"No!" Mr. Crow replied in muffled tones. "It is a real one--but they don't know it yet."

Next to quarreling himself, old Mr. Crow loved to look on while others wrangled. And though he had no taste himself for actual fighting, he liked to see his neighbors pummel and peck and buffet and bounce one another.

So Mr. Crow enjoyed watching the tilt between Nimble and Dodger the Deer. Neither Mr. Crow, nor his rowdy cousin Jasper Jay, had ever seen so furious a fracas as that one soon became. Sometimes Nimble and Dodger rushed together with such force that it seemed to Mr. Crow their horns must break off. Sometimes they reared and struck each other with their front hoofs.

At first, whenever he felt a hurt Nimble only fought the harder. When Dodger's horns gouged him and his hoofs cut him Nimble butted and thrust and struck all the faster. But for every buffet he repaid Dodger, Dodger gave him another that was heavier than ever.

It was no wonder that in time Nimble began to feel tired. But he didn't let Dodger the Deer know that.

"This was easy to start," Nimble thought, "but it seems hard to stop. I wish Dodger would run away."

In the meantime Mr. Crow and Jasper Jay agreed that the battle was growing tamer every moment.

"Hustle it up!" Mr. Crow called to Nimble and Dodger, while Jasper Jay jeered at them both and told them they were mollycoddles.

"I shouldn't call this a mock battle now," Mr. Crow told them. "It's more like a game of tag."

"If only Dodger would run away!" Nimble said under his breath. "I'll stop a minute and see if he won't." So he stood still, with his nose all but touching the ground.

Dodger the Deer did not run. But he paused and stood exactly as Nimble was standing.

So they eyed each other for a while. And neither of them said a word.

"Come!" cried old Mr. Crow. "This will never do. Give us more action!"

And then Dodger the Deer looked up at Mr. Crow and Jasper Jay and spoke.

"If you want more action why don't you two furnish it?" he asked.

"That's a good idea!" Nimble exclaimed. "Let's see a mock battle up in the tree!"

But Mr. Crow replied hoarsely that he had to meet a friend down the valley. "I must be flapping along," he said. And off he went.

Jasper Jay grinned and winked at Nimble and Dodger behind Mr. Crow's back. And then with a loud squall--which might have meant almost anything--he too flew away.

"That was the liveliest mock battle we ever had," Nimble remarked to his friend Dodger.

Dodger agreed with what he said.

Nimble's mother gasped when she saw her son a little later.

"You're a terrible sight!" she told him severely. "What have you been doing?"

"I've been having fun with Dodger the Deer," Nimble explained. "But to tell the truth, it wasn't as much fun as I had expected."

XVII

WHAT BROWNIE WANTED

Nimble Deer had stopped at Brownie Beaver's pond to get a drink. Just as he raised his head from the water he spied Brownie a little way off, on the bank, gnawing at a box alder tree.

"Good evening!" Nimble called to him.

"Good evening!" Brownie Beaver answered.

"I see you're busy, as usual," Nimble remarked.

"Yes!" Brownie replied. "And what are you doing--if I may ask?"

"Oh! I'm just rambling about," Nimble explained.

"Then you're not doing much of anything," said Brownie Beaver.

Nimble admitted that he wasn't.

"Since you're not working, perhaps you'll be willing to help me," Brownie suggested.

"Certainly!" Nimble cried. He liked Brownie Beaver. Everybody liked him--unless it was Timothy Turtle, who had a grudge against the whole Beaver tribe.

"Maybe I can make arrangements with you to----" Brownie began.

"Of course you can!" Nimble interrupted.

"That's very kind of you," Brownie said. "I'm sure I'm much obliged to you."

"You're quite welcome," Nimble assured him.

"You're sure you won't mind!" Brownie Beaver inquired.

"Not at all! No, indeed! What is it you want me to do for you? Do you want me to help you roll a log into the water, when you've finished cutting down that tree? I might use my horns for a cant hook, such as the lumbermen have."

"No! It's not that--thank you!" Brownie Beaver mumbled. He had not stopped working, while he talked. And having some chips in his mouth he did not speak any too clearly.

"Maybe you'd like me to walk back and forth along the top of your dam and make it firmer," Nimble suggested.

"No, it's not that," Brownie told him. "The dam is firm. It has been here a great many years, ever since my great-great-grandfather's time.... You've noticed my house, I dare say," he went on.

"I have," Nimble answered. "It's a good one, though the chimney looks a bit lopsided, to me. Shall I give it a push and see if I can straighten it?"

"No, indeed--thank you!" said Brownie hurriedly. "For mercy's sake, don't touch my chimney! I worked a long time to make it. And if I do say so, it's the best one in the whole village."

Well, Nimble Deer couldn't guess what it was that Brownie Beaver wanted him to do. He couldn't think of any other way in which he might help.

"Then what--" he demanded--"what is it you want?"

"There's something I need for my house," Brownie explained.

"Shingles!" Nimble cried.

"No!" Brownie said, as he shook his head.

"I hope you don't want a pair of antlers to fasten over your chimney piece!" Nimble exclaimed. "I shouldn't care to part with my antlers--not just at present!"

"No!" Brownie said once more.

"I'm glad of that," Nimble replied. For a moment he had been worried.

And then Brownie Beaver told him what he had in mind: "I need a flag to fly over my house."

"That would be fine," Nimble observed. "But I don't see how I could help you with that."

"I've heard that you have a flag. I thought perhaps you'd let me have it--or borrow it, at least," Brownie Beaver told him.

Nimble Deer looked puzzled.

"I haven't any flag," he said. And then he cried, "Yes! Yes, I have one!"

"Ah! I was told you had," said Brownie Beaver.

"Who told you?"

"Old Mr. Crow!" Brownie Beaver said.

"I might have known it," Nimble muttered. "He has played a joke on you. It's true that I have a flag; but it's not the kind of flag you want. Some people call my tail a flag, on account of the way I wave it in the air when I'm startled. Of course you wouldn't care to have my tail on the top of your house."

And Brownie Beaver admitted that he shouldn't.

"But I can't help being disappointed," he confessed.

XVIII

THE MULEY COW

Nimble Deer was a famous jumper. And so was the Muley Cow. In Farmer Green's herd there was no other that could match her.

Living as he did in the pasture, Billy Woodchuck had often seen and admired the Muley Cow as she jumped the fence in order to get into the clover patch, or the cornfield, or the orchard.

And Jimmy Rabbit, who lived in the woods, had come to believe--and even boast--that there wasn't anyone that could jump higher than Nimble Deer.

So Billy Woodchuck and Jimmy Rabbit could never agree upon this question of the best jumper in Pleasant Valley. And there was only one way to settle their difference of opinion. Old Mr. Crow told them that.

"You must have a contest," he declared.

And everybody was willing. The Muley Cow said (when asked) that she would be delighted. And when Nimble Deer heard of the plan he ran all the way to the back pasture at once. For that was where Mr. Crow said the contest ought to take place.

Nimble reached the back pasture just in time to see the Muley Cow arrive there. She leaped the fence. And at the same time she grazed the top rail.

"Good morning, madam!" Nimble said to the Muley Cow. And while she was answering him Nimble jumped the fence into the pasture from which the Muley Cow had come; and then he jumped back again, into the back pasture. And he didn't touch the fence by so much as a single hair.

Then Billy Woodchuck crawled under the fence and came hurrying up.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I'm just stretching my legs a bit," Nimble explained. At that answer Billy Woodchuck set up a loud clamor. "It's not fair!" he howled. "I expected the Muley Cow to win the contest. But if you're going to stretch your legs she'll certainly be beaten unless she stretches hers too."

Now, old Mr. Crow was on hand to see the fun. And not being very friendly with the Muley Cow he didn't want her to win the contest. So he began to squall.

"She mustn't stretch her legs any more than Nimble stretches his," he objected in his hoarse croak. "Nimble jumped the fence twice to stretch his legs. She has jumped once already. Let her jump the fence once more and then they'll be even and the real contest can begin."

"That's fair enough," said Jimmy Rabbit. But Billy Woodchuck began to chatter and scold.

"It's a trick--a trick of Mr. Crow's!" he cried. "If the Muley Cow jumps once more to stretch her legs she'll be on the wrong side of the fence. She won't be in the back pasture then. And how could she have the contest with Nimble Deer?"

Old Mr. Crow gave a loud haw-haw. But he still insisted that the Muley Cow might have only one more leg-stretching jump, when Jimmy Rabbit hurried up to him and said something nobody else could hear. And Mr. Crow listened and then nodded his head.

"It's all right," the old gentleman told Billy Woodchuck. "Let the Muley Cow stretch her legs all she likes."

XIX

THE JUMPING CONTEST

Having had Mr. Crow's permission, the Muley Cow went on stretching her legs as much as she pleased. She jumped the pasture fence; and she jumped it back again. And when she seemed about to stop Billy Woodchuck whispered to her, "You may as well keep a-stretching them. Keep a-jumping! And when the time for the real contest with Nimble Deer comes your legs will be stretched so long that you'll beat Nimble without the slightest trouble."

So the Muley Cow jumped over the fence and back, over the fence and back. And when at last she said she was ready for the contest Billy Woodchuck still urged her to stretch her legs a bit more.

By the time he was willing to let her stop the Muley Cow's sides were heaving.

Meanwhile Jimmy Rabbit and Billy Woodchuck, with Mr. Crow's help, had picked out a clump of young hawthorns for the first test. And now that everybody was ready for the contest Nimble Deer cleared the clump gracefully, with a foot to spare.

Then came the Muley Cow's turn. She looked worried as she fell into a lumbering gallop and ran towards the prickly young trees. And with a mighty effort she tried to fling herself over them.

As she rose into the air she gave a bellow of dismay, to fall floundering the next instant into the thorny thicket.

Jimmy Rabbit began to hop about in circles. He knew that Nimble had won the contest and Jimmy was very happy.

Old Mr. Crow haw-hawed. The Muley Cow had lost the contest and he was glad.

Nimble watched the Muley Cow as she struggled amid the hawthorns, trying to scramble out of the tangle.

"Can I help you, madam?" he asked.

But she never even thanked him. She was so upset that she neither wanted anybody to speak to her nor did she wish to speak to anybody else.

As for Billy Woodchuck, he looked frightfully disappointed. He had expected the Muley Cow to win the jumping contest. And there she was, beaten at the very first jump!

He stole up to her; and standing on his hind legs, to get as near her as he could, he said, "It's a pity you lost! I don't believe you stretched your legs enough."

The Muley Cow snorted.

"That's not the reason why," she snapped. "I stretched my legs _too much_. I jumped the fence until I was so tired I could scarcely stand. It's no wonder that Nimble beat me."

Nimble Deer could see that the Muley Cow was feeling quite glum. After she had struggled free of the thorns he went up to her and bowed in his most polite manner. "Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked her.

"Yes! Do let down the bars for me!" she gasped. "I want to go home. And I couldn't jump that fence again. It would be dangerous for me to try. I might fall and break a leg off. And then I'd have a short leg the rest of my life."

"You could stretch it," old Mr. Crow suggested.

But the Muley Cow turned her back on him and walked away.

XX

SOLVING A PROBLEM

Jimmy Rabbit was going to give a party. Up and down Pleasant Valley and all about Blue Mountain the field and forest people were talking about it.

Almost everybody had an invitation. There were only a few that weren't asked. Jimmy Rabbit didn't intend to invite Grumpy Weasel because he was a rascal. And Timothy Turtle wasn't to be one of the guests because he would be sure to grumble at everybody and everything.

And then there was Nimble Deer. Jimmy Rabbit said that Nimble was _too big_ to come to his party. And every one told Jimmy Rabbit that it was a pity. All the neighbors said so much that Jimmy Rabbit didn't know what to do.

"If I don't ask Nimble you won't be pleased," Jimmy complained to Billy Woodchuck. "And if I do ask him and he should happen to step on you during a dance you wouldn't like that."

"Invite him; but keep him away from the crowd!" Billy Woodchuck suggested.

"How can I do that?" Jimmy Rabbit demanded.

"I don't know," Billy replied. "But I am sure you can find a way, if anybody can."

Well, after that remark there was nothing Jimmy Rabbit could do except to put on his thinking cap. But try as he would, he couldn't hit upon a single plan.

Now, Nimble Deer had no idea of all the trouble he was causing Jimmy Rabbit. To be sure, he knew that he was not invited to Jimmy Rabbit's party. But he was no person to sulk or feel hurt over such a matter.

However, there was one thing that he thought was odd. Wherever he went he was sure to come upon Jimmy Rabbit. Sometimes Nimble would hear a faint rustle. And when he looked around he would catch a glimpse of Jimmy Rabbit ducking out of sight behind a tree. Sometimes Nimble would be taking a nap under the shelter of a clump of evergreens. And he would wake up suddenly with a strange feeling that somebody was watching him. And almost always he would discover Jimmy Rabbit crouching near-by and staring at him.

At first, at such times, Nimble only spoke pleasantly to Jimmy Rabbit. Still he couldn't help noticing that Jimmy Rabbit always acted queerly. He seemed to be absent minded. If Nimble bade him a cheerful good morning Jimmy Rabbit was likely to reply with a good evening. If Nimble said, "It's a fine day," Jimmy would say, "Yes! It does look like rain."

At last, one day, Jimmy Rabbit made the oddest answer of all. When Nimble spied him peering from behind a stump he called, "Hullo! I'm glad to see you." To which remark Jimmy Rabbit said, "I hope to see you later."

"Now, I wonder--" Nimble mused--"I wonder what he means." And then Nimble asked Jimmy Rabbit a question: "Are you feeling well?"

"As well as could be expected!" Jimmy Rabbit told him.

"You don't seem like yourself," said Nimble. "I haven't seen you smile for over a week."

Then, strangely enough, Jimmy Rabbit jumped into the air and kicked and smiled.

"At last," he cried, "I feel better. I have solved the problem. Will you come to my party and help me a week from to-night?"

Nimble Deer thanked him and said that he would.

XXI

AN UNTOLD SECRET

All the field and forest people soon knew that at last Jimmy Rabbit had invited Nimble Deer to his party. And everybody was pleased--that is, everybody except Grumpy Weasel and old Timothy Turtle, who were left out in the cold, so to speak. Grumpy Weasel, when he heard the news, said, "Humph!" And Timothy Turtle, when he heard it, said, "Ho!" And they both declared that they were _glad_ they were not going to the party.

Old Mr. Crow carried the news far and wide. It was he that told Billy Woodchuck, in Farmer Green's clover patch. And Billy Woodchuck almost choked over a clover top, he was so excited.

"Where's Jimmy Rabbit?" he asked Mr. Crow. "I want to ask him something."

"I couldn't say where he is," said Mr. Crow. "I don't think he'd want me to tell. But I'll find him for you and I'll ask him your question--if you'll tell me what it is." That was Mr. Crow's way. He was so curious.

"Thank you!" said Billy Woodchuck. "I don't want to trouble you, Mr. Crow."

And though Mr. Crow tried to learn what the question was, Billy Woodchuck wouldn't tell him.

Later Billy was almost sorry he hadn't accepted Mr. Crow's help. For he couldn't find Jimmy Rabbit anywhere. And then Billy happened to meet Nimble Deer.

"I hear you're going to the party," Billy said to him. "How are you going to keep out of the crowd?" That was the question he had wanted to ask Jimmy Rabbit.

"Keep out of the crowd!" Nimble exclaimed. "I don't expect to keep out of it. The crowd at a party is more than half the fun. Since I'm to help Jimmy Rabbit I'll have to be where the people are."

"Oh!" said Billy Woodchuck. He had been a bit worried, for he didn't want Nimble Deer to step on him at the party. Even though it might be an accident, being stepped on by so big a chap as Nimble would be no joke. Everybody knew that Nimble's hoofs were sharp.

But now Billy had learned something that set his fears at rest. Nimble Deer was going to _help_ Jimmy at the party.

"Ah!" Billy Woodchuck murmured to himself. "That means that Jimmy Rabbit has a plan. And it must be a good one; for his plans are always fine."

"What are you going to do to help?" he asked Nimble.

"Jimmy Rabbit didn't tell me," Nimble replied. "Maybe I'm to entertain the company by having a mock battle with somebody. How would you like to have a mock battle with me?"

"I shouldn't care for it at all!"