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.