He did not go too near Lightfoot, for he did not want to alarm him.
He just kept within sight of Lightfoot, paying no attention
to him but going about his work. You see, this man loved and
understood the little people of the Green Forest and the Green
Meadows, and he knew that there was no surer way of winning
Lightfoot's confidence and trust than by appearing to take no
notice of him. Lightfoot, watching him, understood. He knew that
this man was a friend and would do him no harm. Little by little,
the wonderful, blessed feeling of safety crept over Lightfoot.
No hunter could harm him here.



CHAPTER XXVI: Lightfoot Does The Wise Thing

All the rest of that day the hunter with the terrible gun lay
hidden in the bushes of the pasture where he could watch for
Lightfoot the Deer to leave the place of safety he had found.
It required a lot of patience on the part of the hunter, but the
hunter had plenty of patience. It sometimes seems as if hunters
have more patience than any other people.

But this hunter waited in vain. Jolly, round, red Mr. Sun sank
down in the west to his bed behind the Purple Hills. The Black
Shadows crept out and grew blacker. One by one the stars began to
twinkle. Still the hunter waited, and still there was no sign of
Lightfoot. At last it became so dark that it was useless for the
hunter to remain longer. Disappointed and once more becoming
angry, he tramped back to the Big River, climbed into his boat