The certainty of danger is sometimes easier to bear than the
uncertainty of not knowing whether or not there really is any
danger. Lightfoot felt that if he could know just where the
hunter was, he himself would know better what to do. The
hunter might have become discouraged and given up following him.
In that case he could rest and stop worrying. It would be better
to know that he was being followed than not to know. But how was
he to find out? Lightfoot kept turning this over and over in his
mind as he traveled through the Green Forest. Then an idea came
to him.

"I know what I'll do. I know just what I'll do," said Lightfoot
to himself. "I'll find out whether or not that hunter is still
following me and I'll get a little rest. Goodness knows, I need
a rest."

Lightfoot bounded away swiftly and ran for some distance, then he
turned and quickly, but very, very quietly, returned in the
direction from which he had just come but a little to one side of
his old trail. After a while he saw what he was looking for, a
pile of branches which woodchoppers had left when they had
trimmed the trees they had cut down. This was near the top of a
little hill. Lightfoot went up the hill and stopped behind the
pile of brush. For a few moments he stood there perfectly still,
looking and listening. Then, with a little sigh of relief, he lay
down, where, without being in any danger of being seen himself,
he could watch his old trail through the hollow at the bottom of
the hill. If the hunter were still following him, he would pass
through that hollow in plain sight.