No, Sir, they were not the dainty prints he had learned to
know so well. They were prints very near the size of his own big
ones, and they had been made only a short time before.

The finding of those prints was a dreadful shock to Lightfoot.
He understood instantly what they meant. They meant that a second
stranger had come into the Green Forest, one who had antlers like
his own. Jealousy took possession of Lightfoot the Deer; jealousy
that filled his heart with rage.

"He has come here to seek that beautiful stranger I have been
hunting for," thought Lightfoot. "He has come here to try to
steal her away from me. He has no right here in my Green
Forest. He belongs back up on the Great Mountain from which he
must have come, for there is no other place he could have come
from. That is where that beautiful stranger must have come from,
too. I want her to stay, but I must drive this fellow out.
I'll make him fight. That's what I'll do; I'll make him fight!
I'm not afraid of him, but I'll make him fear me."

Lightfoot stamped his feet and with his great antlers thrashed
the bushes as if he felt that they were the enemy he
sought. Could you have looked into his great eyes then, you
would have found nothing soft and beautiful about them.
They became almost red with anger. Lightfoot quivered all over
with rage. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Lightfoot
the Deer looked anything but gentle.

After he had vented his spite for a few minutes on the harmless,
helpless bushes, he threw his head high in the air and whistled