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.”
“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.