For a long tune Lightfoot rested comfortably behind the pile of
brush. There was not a suspicious movement or a suspicious sound
to show that danger was abroad in the Green Forest. He saw
Mr. and Mrs. Grouse fly down across the hollow and disappear
among the trees on the other side. He saw Unc' Billy Possum
looking over a hollow tree and guessed that Unc' Billy was
getting ready to go into winter quarters. He saw Jumper the Hare
squat down under a low-hanging branch of a hemlock-tree and
prepare to take a nap. He heard Drummer the Woodpecker at work
drilling after worms in a tree not far away. Little by little
Lightfoot grew easy in his mind. It must be that that hunter had
become discouraged and was no longer following him.



CHAPTER XI: The Hunted Watches The Hunter

It was so quiet and peaceful and altogether lovely there in the
Green Forest, where Lightfoot the Deer lay resting behind a pile
of brush near the top of a little hill, that it didn't seem
possible such a thing as sudden death could be anywhere near.
It didn't seem possible that there could be any need for
watchfulness. But Lightfoot long ago had learned that often
danger is nearest when it seems least to be expected. So,
though he would have liked very much to have taken a nap,
Lightfoot was too wise to do anything so foolish. He kept his
beautiful, great, soft eyes fixed in the direction from which
the hunter with the terrible gun would come if he were still
following that trail. He kept his great ears gently moving to
catch every little sound.