Part 3

“Goodness!” grunted White Tail. “You frightened the life out of us, Washer! We thought you were Puma or Timber creeping upon us.”

“Well, I’ve been mistaken for Groundy and Billy Mink, but never for Puma or Timber before,” replied Washer. “It must be that you’re excited or have a bad conscience. I wonder which it is.”

“Not the latter, I hope,” answered White Tail. “But as for being excited, I think we have good reason for that. Downy just brought us word that Puma and Timber, with their families are on our trail, and have us surrounded.”

Washer sat up on his hind legs, and leaned against a tree. His shrewd, golden eyes flashed brightly in the sunshine, and his double row of white teeth glistened every time he opened his mouth.

“If that’s the case,” he said, “I think it’s about time I took to my hole. I have no love or respect for Puma and Timber.”

“Neither have we,” said Young Black Buck, “but we have no hole to run in. What are we going to do?”

“If you only had wings I could answer that question,” interrupted Downy. “I know what I’d do.”

“And if you had a hole you could crawl in, I could advise you,” added Washer.

Of course, this brought no relief to either White Tail’s or Young Black Buck’s harassed minds. They weren’t interested in what Downy or Washer would do. They wanted to know what they could do to escape the terrible trap.

Suddenly to make their situation more desperate, a distant howl rent the air. It was Timber Wolf calling to the pack. Almost instantly there was an answering cry on the left, then another in front, and a third on the right.

“It’s the pack’s hunting cry,” exclaimed Washer. “They’re calling to each other as they close in. Yes, they’ve picked up your scent, White Tail.”

Young Black Buck got so frightened and excited that he leaped around in a circle, uttering plaintive little whimpers. “I’m going to run,” he said, “even if I do nothing but go around and around in circles. I can’t stand still.”

“You’d better save your strength, Young Black Buck,” advised White Tail. “You may need all of it for the race, for it is clear to me that we must trust to our heels to beat them.”

“What’s that?” exclaimed Young Black Buck, as a snarl in the distance alarmed them.

“It’s Puma and his mate creeping up from this direction,” said White Tail more alarmed than ever. “With Puma and his mate in the rear, and Timber’s pack in front and on either side, what chance have we?”

“Wait a minute!” exclaimed Washer quietly. “I think I can suggest a way. My hole is right on the edge of Black Ravine. I built it there so I could watch the sun rise every morning. It’s a beautiful place, even if I do say so.”

White Tail and Young Black Buck turned to him, and waited impatiently for him to proceed. Washer was aggravatingly slow. They were not a bit interested in the beautiful view he had from his hole.

“Black Ravine drops down fifty feet, and if I should ever forget myself and fall over the edge it would be the last of me,” Washer continued, deliberately picking his teeth with a twig. “Yes, I told Mrs. Washer several times it was a beautiful but dangerous spot to bring up our children. They might tumble into the ravine.”

“Never mind the ravine, Washer,” interrupted White Tail. “You said you had a way for us to escape. Please tell us what it is.”

“I was coming to that. You’re very impatient, White Tail. And the ravine has a good deal to do with my plan. It’s twenty feet across from side to side. Can you jump twenty feet?”

“Why, I don’t know, but maybe if—”

“All right then,” Washer interrupted. “I’ll show you the way to Black Ravine in front of my house. If Puma or Timber pursue you all you got to do is to leap across the ravine. Timber couldn’t follow you, and I don’t think Puma can jump that far. If he couldn’t you’d have a big head start. Puma and Timber would have to go a mile down the ravine before they could cross. It’s wider in front of my house than at the ends.”

Washer’s plan dawned upon their minds in an instant, and both bucks sprang up as if to start for Black Ravine at once.

“We’ll do it!” exclaimed White Tail. “I’ll make the jump if I fall in the ravine. It’s better that way than to be pulled down by Puma or Timber.”

“It’s much better not to fall at all,” was Washer’s quiet remark. “But now don’t get excited, or you’ll jump from the frying-pan into the fire. How do you know if one of Timber’s family isn’t watching the ravine? He may be.”

This suggestion dashed their hopes, and sent the cold chills down their backs. No one could tell where the wolves and pumas were scattered. They were closing in upon them on all sides. They might surprise the cornered bucks before ever they could reach Black Ravine.

“The only way I can suggest,” added Washer, “is for Downy to fly ahead, and report to us where they’re hiding. You could do that, Downy, couldn’t you?”

“Why, certainly. I’d be glad to.”

“Then I wouldn’t waste any time.”

Downy immediately flew away in the direction of Black Ravine, while White Tail and Young Black Buck waited impatiently for his return. It seemed a long, long time to them, and every few moments they could hear the call of Timber and his pack. They were drawing nearer and nearer until finally it seemed as if one was in the bushes not a dozen rods away.

Downy came back finally, and said:

“It’s all right, but you must hurry. They’re closing in so that if you don’t reach Black Ravine soon they’ll head you off. This way! Follow me!”

He flew off to the right, but swift as he was White Tail and Young Buck were hardly a yard behind him. They fairly flew across the ground, leaping low bushes and trees in their flight. Washer, being much slower, decided not to follow. He knew another hole where he could hide until the danger was over.

“Here they come!” screamed Downy suddenly. “Now run for your lives! There’s Black Ravine ahead!”

At the same instant Timber and his pack broke cover, and started for the fleeing bucks in the open. Close on their right was Puma and his mate. They set up a yelping and howling that made the blood of the deer curdle. It had to be a short race, for other wolves ahead threatened to cut them off.

But there was Black Ravine. Neither White Tail nor Young Black Buck knew how wide it was, or whether they could cross it, but when they reached the edge they shot out in one mighty leap and landed on the opposite side. Could Puma follow? In the next story you will find out what he did.

STORY VIII MRS. PUMA AND TIMBER FIGHT

The leap across Black Ravine carried White Tail and Young Black Buck away from the yapping jaws of Timber Wolf and his pack. Not one of them dared to follow. They could no more do it than fly. They stopped at the edge and howled woefully as they saw their prey escape.

But not Puma the Mountain Lion. He was a wonderful jumper himself and the sight of the escaping bucks made him wild with rage. Besides, he was terribly hungry, and he was disappointed in not catching at least one of the bucks.

When he came to the edge of the ravine he hesitated a minute, snarling, spitting and whisking his long tail. He was so angry that he knocked one of the wolves over when he got in his way. For a moment there was a savage outcry, and Timber threatened to pounce upon Puma’s back; but the fear of his powerful claws dissuaded him.

“Get away from the edge, you snarling, sniveling sons of cowards!” Puma growled. “When did a wolf ever bring down a buck in fair play? You howl and snap, and make a great fuss, but you’re cowards at heart! Let me show you what a Mountain Lion can do. Back! Back from the edge, I say!”

The wolves obeyed, but not without much snapping of teeth and angry growls. Puma walked back a few paces, and turned to face the cliff. Then with a sudden run and spring he took the long leap.

Ordinarily Puma would have hesitated a long time before attempting to jump across Black Ravine, but he was wild with anger and disappointment. Besides, he knew Timber and his pack were watching him, as well as his own mate. He was puffed up with pride to show what he could do.

But, alas! pride had its downfall. Puma had miscalculated the distance. He realized this before he was half across, and to make up for it he began squirming and jerking in mid-air as if that would help him. It did in a way, for cat-like he had the wonderful facility of actually jumping and leaping forward with his feet off the ground.

But it was of no avail. He still lacked sufficient force to carry him to the other side. He stretched one fore-paw far out, hoping to grasp the edge, and it did touch the rock, but it only scratched and scraped it.

When he found himself falling downward, he thrust out the other fore-leg and clawed at the steep side of the cliff. But there was nothing for him to hold to. The rocks were so hard that his claws could get no purchase.

Down he went another yard. The edge of the cliff was over his head, and fifty feet below was the hard bottom of the ravine. A fall there would surely dash out his brains and break every bone in his body.

Twenty feet down, doubling, whirling and screaming, Puma saw a small stunted tree growing from a cleft in the side. He made one mighty lunge for this, and caught it. He landed with a thud against it, and clung to its branches for dear life. He was so shaken by the fall that for a moment he could do nothing but blink and gasp. The tree had scratched him in a dozen places, and the hard rocks bruised and hurt his body. One paw was bleeding, and the other was so sore that he held it up in the air.

Over his head, some twenty feet, was the top of the cliff, with its sides so steep that no Puma could hope to crawl up them. Below was the bottom which seemed equally difficult to reach. Opposite, looking down at him, were Timber and his family.

“What a lucky fall for you, Puma,” jeered Timber. “And what a poor jump! White Tail and Young Black Buck cleared it easily, and you couldn’t cross it! Now, braggart, what are you going to do to get out? You can hang there and rot before I’ll help you! Ho! Ho! You call my tribe cowards! Then I call you and yours dirty braggarts! You couldn’t—”

A rumbling growl at Timber’s left caused him to turn suddenly. Puma’s mate was facing him, with her eyes spitting fire, and her great right claw raised to strike.

“Son of a coward,” she thundered, “how dare you speak that way to one of my family! Puma may be caught down there, but you have me to reckon with!”

Timber immediately saw his mistake. He had forgotten Mrs. Puma, who was almost as ferocious as Puma. She was smaller, but fully as quick and lithe. Timber’s manners immediately changed, and he became as meek and fawning as he was before threatening and defiant.

“I didn’t refer to you, Mrs. Puma,” he whined. “Of course, I know you are much stronger and quicker than Puma, and—”

“You lie, you sniveling cur!” interrupted Mrs. Puma. “For the tail of a deer I’d knock you in the ravine for my mate to eat for his supper.”

Timber slinked back from the edge. He knew that one blow from that upraised paw would send him hurtling through space. But once back from the edge his manner changed again. Mrs. Puma stood near the edge now, and surrounding her was the half circle of wolves. All of Timber’s pack had arrived, and they were as thirsty as he for blood. They were ten to one.

It flashed through Timber’s mind that this was a good time to settle an old score with Puma. He had never taken kindly to Puma’s lordly ways in dividing the hunting ground between them. Puma had always claimed more than his share of the prey. Sometimes he had eaten three quarters of a carcass, and only turned over a small portion to Timber’s family.

And they were a hungry family, half starved at times when the hunting was poor. All his old grievances came back to him, and he felt that here was a chance to settle the dispute for good. Puma was caught in the ravine, where he might starve and die. Why not then push Mrs. Puma after him?

“Oh, Mrs. Puma,” he said, “you flatter me. My family aren’t such cowards as you think. Just to show you turn around and see them. They’re all here—the whole pack!”

Mrs. Puma whirled about and saw the semi-circle of snarling, snapping wolves. Then for the first time in her life she felt afraid. She might kill two or three of Timber’s family before they conquered her, but eventually they would drive her over the cliff. But it was no time to show fear. That would be the signal for the wolves to close in on her.

“I see them—the whole pack,” she snarled. “And every one of them a coward! Not one dare touch me unless the others push him within reach of my claws. See, the whole pack jumps and screams when I strike.”

With a vicious drive of her paw she made those nearest leap back in fear. She followed this up with another drive. Timber saw that, unless he acted at once, his family would become panic-stricken. Raising himself on his hind feet ready for a spring, he opened his mouth, and uttered the hunting cry of the pack. Then at a given signal they attacked all at once.

They darted forward with yelps of defiance, Timber leading. But what a surprise awaited them! Mrs. Puma had guessed their actions, and with a mighty spring in the air she leaped clear over the backs of the encircling crowd. It was a wonderful spring, and nothing but fear could have made her do it. It landed her safely back of the wolves.

Then before they could turn and charge again, she took another spring, and was safe in the branches of a tree. “Some other day, thou dog of a coward!” Mrs. Puma said. “I’ll sleep here until you get tired of waiting.”

Having got Mrs. Puma out of trouble we will follow White Tail in the next story.

STORY IX YOUNG BLACK BUCK HAS AN ACCIDENT

It is hard work to starve out Puma the Mountain Lion when treed, and perhaps harder yet to imprison him on the side of a steep cliff. Timber Wolf knew this, and after the escape of Mrs. Puma up the tree, he grew uneasy, and decided that it was safer for him to lead the pack back to their own hunting ground.

When they had gone Mrs. Puma leaped down to the ground, and ran to the edge of the ravine to see what had become of her mate. She was not greatly surprised when she saw that he had slowly made his way to the bottom of the chasm, and was looking up to see where she was. With a little cry of joy she trotted down to the end of the ravine to rejoin him.

Meanwhile, of course, White Tail and Young Black Buck were running like the wind, anxious to get as far away from their pursuers as they could. They didn’t know what had happened at Black Ravine, and they couldn’t stop to investigate. The fear that the wolves and Mountain Lions might still be on their trail kept them going until they were nearly exhausted.

One mile, two miles, three miles they ran without stopping or looking around, fear lending speed to their legs. Then something happened which brought them to a sudden halt. Young Black Buck stumbled, and plunged headfirst to the ground. When he tried to get up again, he groaned with pain, and held a fore-leg in the air as if it hurt him.

“Oh, I’ve broken my leg!” he cried. “I can’t run another step. They’ll catch me now, I know! I can’t escape them!”

White Tail, whose momentum had carried him some distance ahead, stopped and turned around.

“Let me see it,” he said, sniffing at the leg. After quickly examining it, he added; “No, it isn’t broken—only sprained. Can’t you stand on it?”

“No, not for an instant. Oh, what will become of me! Hark! Isn’t that Puma growling?”

“No,” replied White Tail, listening with his head flung back and his nose in the air.

“Then it’s Timber calling, I’m sure it is.”

White Tail listened again. He was trembling himself, for the fright and exhausting run had made him very nervous.

“It’s something, but I don’t think it’s Timber Wolf. He hasn’t had time to run around the end of Black Ravine.”

“But he’ll be here soon,” whined Young Black Buck.

“Then we must be going. We can’t stay here. You must run on three legs. You can do it.”

“Not so fast as Timber Wolf or Puma can run on four legs. Oh, you won’t leave me, White Tail, will you? I shall die of fear if you do. I’ve always been your friend.”

“I won’t leave you yet,” replied White Tail. “Lie down in the bushes, and I will run back and see if I can find Timber or Puma. If they’re coming—”

“Don’t leave me,” interrupted Young Black Buck.

Just then, when White Tail was uncertain what to do, and so nervous that he couldn’t stand still, Downy the Woodpecker appeared. He fluttered in a tree just as if he had been there waiting for them all the time.

“Oh, Downy,” cried White Tail, “where are they? Are they on our trail yet? Did they get across Black Ravine?”

Downy finished hauling a grub out of its hole in the tree bark before he answered. “No,” he then said, “they didn’t get across Black Ravine, but Puma got in it. And he’s there now, screaming with rage.”

“He jumped and fell in it?” asked Young Black Buck.

“Yes,” nodded Downy. “He tried to show Timber’s family what he could do, and he made a pretty sight of himself. He missed the opposite side by a few inches, and if it hadn’t been for a small tree growing on the rocks he would have fallen to the bottom, and been killed.”

“I wish he had,” said Young Black Buck.

“Well, he wasn’t,” added Downy, “so it’s no good wishing for what didn’t happen. He’ll roll down, and get on his feet again. It’s pretty hard to kill Puma.”

“What did Timber and his pack do?” asked White Tail.

“They did just what you might expect of them. They jeered and laughed at Puma, and then Mrs. Puma interfered.”

“I thought that Timber and Puma were friends,” said White Tail.

“Such selfish friendship as they had for each other doesn’t amount to much. It only takes a little for them to fall out and begin fighting each other. And that’s just what happened. Timber thought it was a good time to attack Mrs. Puma, and his whole pack jumped at her.”

“And what happened then?” breathlessly asked White Tail.

“Mrs. Puma jumped too, and as she could jump faster and farther than Timber she got away and ran up a tree. There I left her, with the wolves howling underneath.”

“I think then they’ll give up the chase,” remarked White Tail. “It’s very fortunate for us, for Young Black Buck has sprained his leg, and will have to limp the rest of the way.”

“I can’t limp far on three legs,” whined Young Black Buck. “And we are far away from the herd, aren’t we, Downy?”

“Yes, so many miles I can’t count them. You’ve been running away from where you started, and it will take you a long, long time to get home.”

White Tail and Young Black Buck were greatly distressed by this information, for night was coming on, and to be caught after dark away from the herd in the heart of a strange woods was a most unpleasant outlook. White Tail might have made it by hard running, but Young Black Buck could never do it, and White Tail wasn’t going to leave him alone in the woods. He was too loyal for that.

“There doesn’t seem to be any choice in the matter,” White Tail said. “We’ve got to stay here, and make the best of it.”

“But you could get home alone, White Tail, if you started right away,” suggested Downy. “It will be moonlight early in the evening, and you can find your way once you reach the shallow stream.”

“Yes, I know the way, but I couldn’t leave Young Black Buck behind. No, I couldn’t think of it. We’ll find a resting place among the bushes, and stay here until morning. Then maybe his leg will be better.”

Downy nodded his head, and began pecking away at the bark of the tree for another grub. Young Black Buck looked thankfully at the speaker, but said nothing.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you soon,” Downy remarked after a while. “I’m a long distance from my home, and I don’t see that I can help you any by staying.”

“No,” smiled White Tail, “except to give us warning of danger when it comes.”

“There’s no danger now unless—”

He stopped and listened attentively.

“Unless what, Downy?”

“I don’t know that I should say it, for I don’t want to frighten you, but there are man hunters in this woods. They’ve pitched a camp a few miles back of here. But if they haven’t dogs with them they won’t find you. Just keep quiet here in the bushes until morning.”

“We certainly will,” replied White Tail. “I dread the man hunters as much as Puma and Timber, especially if they have dogs.”

And all through the night, he thought and dreamt of the man hunters, but nothing happened until morning, and then the distant baying of a dog startled him.

STORY X WHITE TAIL’S MAGNANIMOUS ACT

White Tail could not mistake the sound of the dogs in the distance. Neither could Young Black Buck, who was instantly on his feet. The dread sound had more to do in curing the sprained foot than the night’s rest, and he followed White Tail, trotting around and sniffing the air in every direction.

“Are they coming this way?” Young Black Buck asked.

“It’s hard to tell,” replied White Tail. “I haven’t picked up their scent yet, but I don’t need to. I hear them.”

“We must be going before they find us.”

“Is your lame leg strong enough?”

“Yes, it’s all right again—a little lame, but not much. Which way shall we go?”

Unconsciously Young Black Buck had been depending upon White Tail ever since danger first threatened them, and this was a sure sign that he recognized qualities of leadership in his rival that he did not possess. And White Tail had accepted it without giving it much thought.

“I think,” he said finally, “they’re off to the right where Downy said the white hunters had their camp. Then we should go to the left.”

“But that will take us to the hunting grounds of Puma and Timber Wolf,” protested Young Black Buck.

“Yes, I know, but we can swing around north of them before we reach their woods. At any rate we can’t run right into danger.”

White Tail took up the lead, and Young Black Buck followed. They stole away in the woods almost as silently as shadows. A well worn trail led into the darkest and thickest part of the forest, and as this kept going straight away from the man hunter’s camp they stuck close to it.

“Maybe this is Puma’s trail,” Young Black Buck remarked after they had gone a considerable distance. “No deer have been this way.”

“No, of course not. This isn’t our woods, but Puma hasn’t been here. I could smell him.”

“Then Timber Wolf and his pack made it.”

“No, it hasn’t Timber’s smell either.”

White Tail had his nose close to the ground, and while he couldn’t quite make out whose trail it was he felt confident that it wasn’t that of either Puma or Timber.

Still it is always dangerous to follow an unknown trail. It’s against the law of the herd for the leader to do so, and had White Tail known it he would have taken to the thick woods. But he thought he was doing right, for it was much easier to travel faster in this way.

He was jogging along cautiously when the trail became suddenly very strong and fresh. He stopped and flung up his head. That animal odor that had caught his nose, startled him.

But the sight which met his eyes startled him more than the strange odor. There standing directly in the broad trail, grinning at them, was Buster the Bear. What a shock it gave him! Buster seemed to tower up so big that he looked like a giant of a bear.

With a snort of fear, White Tail turned and sprang out of the trail, clearing a clump of bushes in a beautiful jump, and calling to Young Black Buck to follow. The latter didn’t need this advice, for he was already out of the trail, running for dear life.