Part 2

“You, White Tail!” he exclaimed. “You wish to accept the challenge? Beware how you speak without thinking. Go and look down the chasm! It means death if you fail! Think twice before you speak!”

Now when Father Buck heard the nature of the challenge he felt a great fear. He had never shown the canyon to White Tail, and he didn’t know whether he could leap across it or not. He reproached himself for omitting this part of his training.

Mother Deer’s heart gave a great throb. If White Tail failed she knew he would be crushed to death on the rocks below. She could not endure such a sight. Better that her son should lose the leadership than be killed.

“No, no, White Tail,” she cried, “you must not accept the challenge. You must not! I can’t lose you!”

Black Buck, who had been standing back of the crowd, heard, and was greatly pleased, for he knew now that Father Buck hadn’t taught White Tail to jump the canyon. Few had ever taken the leap without practicing first at the place below where there was no danger. It was the fear of not being able to clear the distance that caused the real danger.

“You must not say that,” interrupted Father Buck, frowning at Mother Deer. “The honor of our family is at stake. White Tail must accept the challenge.”

Before Mother Deer could answer this, White Tail had settled the dispute. “Whatever you can do, Young Black Buck,” he said, “I will do. More than that, I will lead.”

“You will take the leap first?” queried Young Black Buck. “Then, as the challenger, I have the right of choice. You can go first, White Tail.”

“But where I go you must follow,” retorted White Tail. “If not, you shall be forever disgraced.”

“If you are afraid I’ll lead,” sneered Young Black Buck.

“No, I’ll go first!”

White Tail didn’t even go to the edge of the precipice to look down or to measure the distance across. What was the use? He would make the greatest jump of his life. If he failed he would die knowing he had done his best. What more could he do?

He ran back a short distance, and then facing the canyon he made a swift dash for it. At the brink he threw all his strength in a mighty leap, and his body shot upward and outward, forming a beautiful curve. He kept his eyes ahead, and never once looked down.

It was a splendid jump. It carried him clear across the canyon, and landed him safely a yard beyond the opposite edge. He knew by the shouts that he had succeeded even before his feet touched ground. Then with a proud toss of his head he turned and looked at Young Black Buck. It was his turn now. Could he do it?

STORY IV FATHER BUCK’S DECISION

Young Black Buck was greatly chagrined at White Tail’s great jump, for he knew that he had crossed the canyon without any previous training. It showed that White Tail had courage as well as strength and skill. It was a triumph for him that none appreciated more than Young Black Buck and his father.

“Now, Young Black Buck,” White Tail called from the opposite side, “follow me, or forever cease challenging.”

There was nothing for Young Black Buck to do but take the jump. All eyes were turned on him. For the first time a feeling of fear possessed him. He had looked down the chasm, and knew what waited him if he fell short. Suppose he should make a false step or stumble at the last moment. The fall would be terrible. If not actually killed, he would break his legs at the very least.

Black Buck saw the expression of fear in his son’s eyes, and whispered to him: “Don’t look below! Keep your eyes up and ahead!”

Young Black Buck gathered himself for the short run, and long jump. He knew that he had to take it, and that he had to succeed. He ran with all his might, and then sprang forward in a quick spring.

If it hadn’t been for his nervousness, he certainly would have cleared the chasm without accident, but chagrin, anger and fear had possession of him, and they were responsible for a misstep at the last moment. When his body was launched through the air, he knew that he hadn’t put in the jump all the power he had.

Then too the fear of a failure alarmed him. He glanced down, and saw the terrible chasm yawning below to receive him. This gave his body a side lurch, and instead of clearing the chasm in a beautiful jump his forefeet touched the opposite side only a foot from the edge, and his hind hoofs missed it by an inch.

No one could see the accident so quickly or plainly as White Tail, who stood within a few feet of him. He saw that Young Black Buck was going to miss before his front hoofs touched the embankment.

Now the thought of his missing the rock, and falling to the bottom of the chasm in a broken heap, horrified White Tail so that he forgot all his triumph and desire to win. His greatest desire was to save Young Black Buck from an awful death.

Before he reached the embankment, White Tail jumped to the edge, and quick as a wink stretched forth his head, caught Young Black Buck by a prong of his antlers. He got a good hold with his teeth, and then as the leaping buck’s hind feet slipped down and his body began to sway backward, White Tail braced his feet, and jerked backward with all his strength.

It was enough to overcome the balance of the frightened jumper. Instead of falling backward into the chasm, he stumbled forward, and then catching his hind hoofs on the edge he managed to climb up the embankment.

It was all done so quickly and skilfully that the watchers on the opposite bank hardly knew what had happened. They knew in some way that Young Black Buck had stumbled and nearly fallen in the chasm. They had also seen White Tail reach forward and grab or push him. They couldn’t very well say just what he did.

But Black Buck, seeing that his son had failed, and angry at the thought of White Tail’s triumph, was quick to see a way to change defeat into triumph. Before his son could recover his breath and stop his trembling, Black Buck roared out with all his might:

“Foul! That was a foul! White Tail got in the way, and tried to throw my son off the precipice!”

“No, No!” several shouted. “Not that! White Tail wouldn’t do that!”

“Ask my son if what I say isn’t true? He should know!” rumbled Black Buck.

Young Black Buck was almost as quick as his father to see the chance of redeeming himself in the eyes of the whole herd, and he shook his head with delight. His fear and trembling all left him.

“Speak, Young Black Buck!” shouted his father. “Did White Tail interfere with you? Speak before it is too late!”

Young Black Buck was ready with his answer. “Yes, he stood in my way,” he replied, “and when I reached the edge he bit at me, and tried to push me off the edge.”

White Tail started in surprise and horror at this accusation, for he was too stunned to speak. Then, when he realized what the charge meant, he said:

“You know I didn’t do that, Young Black Buck! If I hadn’t grabbed your antlers you would have fallen over and been crushed to death. Oh, how could you say such a thing!”

“That’s a fine story to tell!” jeered Young Black Buck. “Who do you think will believe it! You wanted to kill me so you could have no challenger for the leadership. Well, I’m alive, and I’ll beat you to it yet.”

Now the uproar on the other side was intense. Some believed that White Tail had actually tried to push his rival down the chasm, and others were equally certain that the son of Father Buck could never be guilty of such a crime. The commotion was approaching the proportions of a riot when Father Buck brought silence with a roar of authority.

“Be quiet!” he bellowed. “We must settle this dispute right. If my son was guilty of such a crime, I would be the first to disown him and drive him from the herd in disgrace. But if he is innocent, I will back him up with all my might.”

He turned fiercely on Black Buck, as he said this, his eyes flashing and his antlers bobbing threateningly. Black Buck was not anxious to get in a fight with the leader, and he backed away grumbling.

“I will protect my son, too,” he breathed angrily, “if he is right.”

“That is your duty,” roared Father Buck, “and it is your duty to denounce him if he’s in the wrong. Will you do that also?”

Black Buck made some inaudible reply, and backed still further away from the flashing eyes.

“Who saw White Tail push Young Black Buck off the edge?” asked Father Buck, addressing the crowd.

A dozen or more voices answered in the affirmative. Without changing the expression of his face, Father Buck then added: “Who saw White Tail grab Young Black Buck, and try to save him from a fall?”

An equal number of voices responded promptly. To make sure Father Buck counted them, and then counted those who had answered in favor of Young Black Buck. They were the same! Twenty yeas and twenty noes!

“That makes it hard for me to decide,” murmured Father Buck. “A tie is never a pleasant vote for a leader, for he must decide then one way or the other himself. In this case it’s doubly hard for me.”

He stopped and looked at the herd, and then added: “You know me, and you know I would be the last to decide in favor of my son if I thought he was wrong. Therefore, in giving my decision, I know you will think I’m doing justice. Then I say to you that I saw White Tail help Young Black Buck up the slope. Had it not been for his help one of our number would be down below there dead.”

There was a silence, and a shudder passed through the whole herd. Father Buck’s decision did not affect them so much as the thought of what might have happened. They were glad that it had ended this way, with no bones broken. White Tail was exonerated in their eyes.

STORY V YOUNG BLACK BUCK’S CHALLENGE TO A RACE

White Tail was so angry at Young Black Buck for accusing him falsely that for a moment after Father Buck’s decision, he couldn’t find his tongue to speak. He simply glared at Young Black Buck, and for the first time there came into his mind a desire to punish his accuser. He knew then that he would have to fight his antagonist some day, and the battle would be a long and hard one, with neither side giving any terms.

When the excitement had quieted a little, he turned to Young Black Buck, and said: “You know that you spoke falsely, and knowing it your conscience should trouble you.”

Young Black Buck grinned. “But nobody else knows it,” he replied. “Therefore my conscience don’t trouble me much.”

“Some day,” added White Tail, “you will pay for this. We want no deceiver as the leader of the herd. I’ll battle you for the position.”

“Oh!” sneered the other. “That’s a pretty speech, White Tail. But we can’t battle for the leadership until Father Buck has failed in the chase or hunt. He’s leader until then.”

“But the day will come when it will be between you and me.”

“And then,” replied Young Black Buck, airily, “I’ll see that you get the worst licking you ever had.”

“No, I think it will be the other way.”

White Tail crossed the chasm again and joined the herd. There were plenty to sympathize with him, and they expressed themselves frankly. But there were not lacking others who admired Young Black Buck, and felt that he had been unjustly accused.

Mother Deer whispered in her son’s ears: “Never mind, White Tail. We have to learn to take such things in life unselfishly. Right always triumphs in the end. Don’t let it worry you.”

“It doesn’t worry me, Mother Deer. But it makes me feel angry.”

Further conversation was stopped by Father Buck announcing that the herd would go to the lower timberland to graze on the succulent grass that bordered Puma’s hunting ground. The grass was in the rich, tender stage, and the deer enjoyed it as a sort of luxury. The fact that Puma had selected this spot as his special hunting ground could not keep the deer away, and Father Buck’s announcement was hailed with delight.

“We must keep together,” he cautioned, “with the does and fawns inside, and the bucks outside, for Puma may be abroad, although he’s not to be feared so much in the day time. If he’s asleep in his lair we won’t disturb him.”

The spice of danger added to the zest of the adventure. The grass always had a much sweeter taste and a richer flavor when it was gathered right under the nose of Puma. The young bucks kicked up their heels and ran ahead. While they were not anxious to draw Puma from his lair, they wanted to show to the fawns and does they were unafraid.

“If Puma comes for me I’ll show him a clean pair of heels!” boasted one.

“And I,” said another, “will give him a race that he’ll never forget.”

Little did they know of what they were boasting. Puma the Mountain Lion never laid any great claim to swift, long distance running. He knew he was no match for the fleet deer in this respect.

But he had ways and tricks of his own. His favorite method was to hide among the thick foliage of the trees, and when a buck or doe passed underneath to spring upon its back. Once caught in this way no deer had a chance to escape. All the speed in the world would not avail the poor creature then.

Puma was a terrible hunter. At night time he roamed about the dark woods and scented out his sleeping prey, and with one blow from his great paw he could break the back of a buck or crush the skull of a smaller animal. He could climb a tree like a cat, and crouch flat in the bushes out of sight to spring up as swiftly as a deer leaping a chasm.

All the older deer knew the ways of Puma, some from terrifying experiences, and others only from hearsay. Ever since Father Buck had been leader of the herd, they had avoided Puma, and not one had fallen a prey to his voracious appetite. Perhaps they didn’t fully appreciate this, for continued safety from danger often makes us think there is no real danger after all.

So when he proposed leading the herd down to the succulent grass, bordering the woods where Puma hunted, he took great precaution to avoid any risk. Several of the older bucks were sent ahead scouting, and they returned at intervals to report.

Father Buck led them down to the broad, shallow stream that he and White Tail had crossed that day on their return from Puma’s hunting ground. But instead of wading down the river a short distance, the leader kept them wading until they had skirted the hunting ground of Timber Wolf. He had almost as much fear of Timber as of Puma.

They kept to the left bank of the stream, and then crossed a shallow ford where the grass and reeds grew in such dense masses. They began feeding at once, but not until bucks had been sent inland to scout for Puma. They returned to report that Puma was not abroad. They had crossed and re-crossed his old trails, but there was no fresh scent in the air.

“He’s probably sleeping after a good night of hunting,” Black Buck remarked. “I don’t think there’s any danger.”

But the leader was taking no chances. He posted scouts in the woods and on high rocks where they could watch, listen and smell. Then the rest of the herd enjoyed their feast of rich grass and reeds. They munched greedily at them, their eyes filled with happiness, and making as little noise as possible.

Now Young Black Buck should have been satisfied to eat and enjoy himself with the rest but after he had filled his stomach he began to feel so much better that he trotted around from one group to another in the most restless manner. Seeing White Tail feeding alone, a sudden desire to get even with him for the morning’s work seized him.

“Ho, White Tail!” he called. “I challenge you to a race. We’ll scare up Puma maybe, but that will give us a good chance to show him how little we are afraid of him.”

“Is it wise to arouse him?” asked White Tail.

“Wise!” sniffed Young Black Buck. “Must you ask that question whenever you want to do something? But if you’re afraid to race me through his hunting ground well and good. I’ll go alone.”

“I’m not afraid,” replied White Tail, “and I will accept your challenge if the older ones say it is all right.”

Young Black Buck reported the matter to the leaders, and after a consultation Father Buck announced: “We’re ready to go home, and if Puma is aroused we’ll flee. Perhaps it’s a good plan to give Young Black Buck and White Tail a chance to see Puma. They will be on the lookout for him, and when he appears they can run home. Yes, they must learn some day to meet him, and it is well that it should be today.”

With the consent of the leader of the herd the two young bucks started off into the lower woods to make a complete circuit of Puma’s hunting ground. It was a long, wild run, and they would need all their strength and powers. Father Buck started them off, and they disappeared in the woods like two arrows shot from a bow. What happened to them in the race will be told in the next story.

STORY VI DOWNY THE WOODPECKER BRINGS STARTLING NEWS

Swift as the wind, and almost as silently, White Tail and Young Black Buck swept through the low timberland, skirting the edge of Puma’s hunting ground so they could circuit it and return to the starting point. Like two good long-distance runners, neither made an effort to take the lead at first.

It was to be a test of endurance rather than of short sprinting. Silently, side by side, they ran at first, leaping over fallen logs and trees in long graceful jumps, and spurting in sharp bursts of speed where the trail was broad and open.

It was not until they had covered the first mile, that first one and then the other attempted to take the lead. Young Black Buck shot ahead first, taking advantage of an open trail, but a moment later White Tail leaped over a clump of bushes and rushed ahead. Young Black Buck pushed in the lead again at the first opportunity.

Neither took these short spurts seriously, for they indicated nothing. Not until they had covered the second mile did they begin to let out in real earnestness. Black Buck then, to see whether White Tail was beginning to show any strain, rushed ahead, and spread himself out in a long, steady lope.

White Tail kept close behind him until his speed began to slacken, and then to show that he was still fresh and strong he dashed ahead and took the lead. Then followed another mile of hard running. Both bucks were beginning to perspire freely now, and the white lather showed on their flanks.

But neither one was winded or anywhere near the end of their strength. White Tail felt that he could keep up the gait nearly all day. He felt singularly fresh and strong. They had made half the circuit before either could try to outdistance the other.

The rest of the race would decide which was the champion. Either they had to run abreast of each other until the end, or one had to take the lead. Suddenly, to White Tail’s surprise, Young Black Buck slowed down, and said:

“We’re on even terms up to this point, White Tail. Suppose we rest awhile, and then go on. The woods are so beautiful here, and I want to see what kind of a place Puma lives in. He’s around here somewhere, I suppose.”

“Yes, I came here one day with Father Buck, and he showed me where Puma was. I smelt him and heard him.”

“How exciting!” exclaimed Young Black Buck. “I wonder if we’ll hear and smell him today. I want to know what he looks like.”

“I’m not so interested in that,” laughed White Tail. “I don’t want to get so close to him that he can see me.”

“No, but we might see him, and then steal silently away without being caught.”

White Tail wasn’t so sure of that. He had a wholesome dread of Puma’s hunting powers.

“We might stumble upon him and he see us first,” he added. “He’s very sly, and can hide so no one can see him.”

“But we could smell him first.”

“Not if we were on the wrong side of the wind. Have you noticed which way the wind is blowing?”

“Why, yes, from the right.”

“Then we don’t have to fear anything on that side. We must keep our eyes and ears open on the left.”

“It’s my opinion,” said Young Black Buck slowly, “that Puma’s greatly over-rated. Why, he hasn’t killed one of the herd as long as any one can remember.”

“No, but that’s because Father Buck has been such a wise leader.”

Young Black Buck sniffed in scorn. “I don’t know that he’s been any better or wiser than other leaders,” was the retort. “If my father had been leader Puma or Timber Wolf wouldn’t have caught a deer. They wouldn’t have dared. They’re all afraid of him.”

White Tail felt that this boasting wouldn’t get them anywhere, and would in the end lead to unpleasant words; but he knew that if Puma or Timber Wolf heard it they would laugh in glee.

“If you’re rested suppose we go back,” White Tail said. “We’re going to make quicker time back. I’m going to run my best.”

“And I too. I’m going to beat you. I’m sorry you got tired out, and had to rest. Well, I’m ready.”

White Tail could afford a smile at this remark, for Young Black Buck had made the request to stop for a short time. Tired out! Why, he felt as fresh and strong as when they started. He would punish Young Black Buck by making his defeat as unpleasant as he could.

But before either one could start for the return trip there was a noise among the leaves of the spruce tree under which they were standing, and with visions of Puma crouching among the branches ready to drop down upon them their hearts gave a great bound and almost stood still. In another moment they would have been off like a shot, but there was a flutter of wings, and Downy the Woodpecker, who had made the noise with his beak, spoke.

“Hist! Listen!” he called. “Listen, White Tail—and you too, Young Black Buck!”

Both of the runners stopped and looked up among the branches of the trees where Downy was sitting.

“Puma is on your trail,” Downy added. “He caught your wind way back there, and he’s been trailing you ever since. I saw him, and hurried to tell you.”

“Thank you, Downy,” replied White Tail. “It’s time we were off. He can never catch us if he’s behind.”

“I didn’t say he was behind you,” replied Downy. “He was on your trail, but Puma’s too wise to follow you that way. You don’t know him. When he picked up your trail, he followed you by the wind. While you were running around in a circle, he’s been cutting across it. He’s between you and the herd.”

“In that case,” said Young Black Buck in a frightened voice, “we’ll take a wide circuit, and he’ll miss us.”

Again Downy shook his head. “You are young,” he said, “and don’t know how Puma hunts. He hunts with his mate, and she’ll be off to the right to head you off.”

“Then what can we do?” asked Young Black Buck, his legs shaking and his voice trembling.

“I really don’t know what to say. I came here to tell you of your danger. I can’t tell you what to do.”

“Couldn’t we go back a little on our track, and then get around Puma and his mate?” asked White Tail, struggling hard to keep cool.

“I’m afraid if you do that you’ll run into Timber Wolf and his family. Puma gave him the alarm, and he’s out with his whole pack to cut you off in that direction.”

By this time Young Black Buck was so excited and frightened that he hardly knew what to do. To be cornered by Puma and Timber Wolf, with all the yelping pack, was a terrible thing, and there seemed no way of escape. A sudden rustling in the bushes made him jump nearly five feet away. Even White Tail leaped to one side.

But it wasn’t Puma or Timber Wolf. It was Washer the Raccoon, and what Washer had to propose will appear in the next story. Washer was considered a very wise, shrewd animal, and perhaps he had a way for them to escape.

STORY VII A RACE WITH PUMA AND TIMBER

Washer the Raccoon poked his nose out of the bushes, and looked blinkingly at White Tail and Young Black Buck, while Downy the Woodpecker gazed down at all three with an expression in his eyes that plainly said: “Well, I’m glad I’ve got wings, and can fly away if I want to.”