Bobby Coon nodded. "That's true, Sammy," said he. "Without
Lightfoot, the Green Forest will never be the same. He never
harmed anybody. Why those hunters should have been so anxious to
kill one so beautiful is something I can't understand. For that
matter, I don't understand why they want to kill any of us.
If they really needed us for food, it would be a different matter,
but they don't. Have you been up in the Old Pasture and asked
Old Man Coyote if he has seen anything of Lightfoot?"

Sammy nodded. "I've been up there twice," said he. "Old Man
Coyote has been lying very low during the days, but nights he has
done a lot of traveling. You know Old Man Coyote has a mighty
good nose, but not once since the day those hounds chased
Lightfoot has he found so much as a tiny whiff of Lightfoot's
scent. I thought he might have found the place where Lightfoot
was killed, but he hasn't, although he has looked for it. Well,
the hunting season for Lightfoot is over, but I am afraid it has
ended too late."



CHAPTER XXIX: Mr. And Mrs. Quack Are Startled

It was the evening of the day after the closing of the hunting
season for Lightfoot the Deer. Jolly, round, red Mr. Sun had gone
to bed behind the Purple Hills, and the Black Shadows had crept
out across the Big River. Mr. and Mrs. Quack were getting their
evening meal among the brown stalks of the wild rice along the
edge of the Big River. They took turns in searching for the rice