Ever since the hunting season had opened, Sammy had done his
best to make trouble for the hunters. Whenever he had found
one of them he had screamed at the top of his voice to warn every
one within hearing just where that hunter was. Once a hunter had
lost his temper and shot at Sammy, but Sammy had suspected that
something of the kind might happen, and he had taken care to keep
just out of reach. Sammy had known all about the chasing of
Lightfoot by the hounds. Everybody in the Green Forest had known
about it. You see, everybody had heard the voices of those
hounds. Once, Lightfoot had passed right under the tree in which
Sammy was sitting, and a few moments later the two hounds had
passed with their noses to the ground as they followed Lightfoot's trail.
That was the last Sammy had seen of Lightfoot. He had been able to save
Lightfoot from the hunters, but he couldn't save him from the hounds.

The more Sammy thought things over, the more he worried. "I am
afraid those hounds drove him out where a hunter could get a shot
and kill him, or else that they tired him out and killed him
themselves," thought Sammy. "If he were alive, somebody certainly
would have seen him and nobody has, since the day those hounds
chased him. I declare, I have quite lost my appetite worrying
about him. If Lightfoot is dead, and I am almost sure he is, the
Green Forest will never seem the same."



CHAPTER XXVIII: The Hunting Season Ends

The very worst things come to an end at last. No matter how bad a
thing is, it cannot last forever. So it was with the hunting