The Tale of Nimble Deer Part 3

"No!" said his mother. "That wouldn't be polite."

She was silent for a few moments. And then she explained to Jimmy Rabbit and to the owners of the pairs of eyes that still stared at her out of the darkness. She explained that on account of an unexpected party she wasn't going to the carrot patch that night.

"When are you going?" asked the owner of one pair of specially bright eyes.

"Ha!" Nimble's mother exclaimed. "Is that Cuffy Bear speaking?"

"Yessum!" said the same voice.

"I fear," she told him, "I may not be able to go for a long time."

"Never mind!" Cuffy cried. "I can go any night--that is, until I den up for the winter."

And every one in the company declared that he hadn't a single engagement that would prevent him from visiting the garden whenever Nimble's mother should say the word.

"Well," said she, "it won't be to-night, anyhow." And with that she turned around and began to walk along the runway again, away from the pasture fence.

As Nimble followed her Jimmy Rabbit skipped alongside him and whispered in his ear.

"Don't fail to let me know when the time comes!"

But Nimble said never a word. Somehow he suspected that he had made a great mistake.

He _knew_ he had, a little later.

VII

THE STRANGE LIGHT

Weeks went by; and still Nimble's mother said no more about visiting Farmer Green's carrot patch. Nimble himself did not dare to mention carrots now. It was his own fault that the excursion had been postponed.

And much as he still wanted a taste of carrots the whole affair was something he didn't care to talk about.

Anyhow, it was lucky that he liked water lilies. For his mother took him to the lake behind Blue Mountain every night, almost. And there they splashed in the shallows and ate all they wanted.

Most of those nights were much alike. But there was one that Nimble remembered for many a day afterward.

It was not a dark night; neither was it a light one. It was a half-and-half sort of night. There was a moon. But it was far from full.

And it was not high in the sky. The light from it came slanting down upon the lake, throwing the shadows of the trees far out upon the water.

Where those shadows reached out darkly Nimble and his mother stood with the water lapping their sleek bodies. And they were eating so busily that neither of them noticed a blurred shape that glided slowly nearer and nearer to them, without making the slightest sound.

All at once a shaft of dazzling light swept along the sh.o.r.e. Nimble was so surprised and puzzled that he stopped eating to stand still and gaze at it.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Never Had Nimble Run So Fast Before.

_Page_ 42]

But only for a moment! Instantly his mother flung her tail upward, so that the under side of it gleamed white even in the half light. And that--as Nimble knew right well--that was the danger signal.

Almost before Nimble knew what was happening his mother made for the sh.o.r.e. As she plunged through the water her tail, still aloft like a flag, twitched from side to side.

Nimble needed no urging to follow it. Soon they scrambled, dripping, out of the lake to dive headlong into the cover of the overhanging willows.

In those few seconds the light darted swiftly towards them. But it was not quite quick enough. Only the ripples told where they had been standing. Only the gently waving branches of the willows showed where Nimble and his mother had vanished.

A noise like a thunder-clap crashed upon Nimble's ears and rolled and tumbled in the distance, tossed from the mountain to the hills across the lake, and back again. It frightened Nimble much more than did the odd whistle that whined just above his head a moment before the thunder peal.

Never had he run so fast before. Never had his mother set such a pace for him. Usually, when startled, she stopped after going a short distance and looked back to try to get a glimpse of whoever or whatever had alarmed her. To be sure, she always stopped in a good place, like the edge of Cedar Swamp, where she could duck out of sight if need be.

But this time Nimble's mother ran on and on without pausing.

"Haven't you forgotten something?" her son gasped after a while.

"Forgotten something? What do you mean?" she asked.

"Haven't you forgotten to stop?" Nimble inquired.

A queer look came over her face.

"I declare," she said, "I do believe I'd Have run all night if you hadn't reminded me." She fell into a walk. And neither of them said another word until they reached the swamp, which was one of his mother's favorite hiding places. Then Nimble spoke again.

"I waved my flag too," he said proudly.

VIII

MRS. DEER EXPLAINS

For the first time in his life Nimble felt quite grown up. He forgot that he had not yet lived a whole summer. He had made a suggestion to his mother which she had promptly acted upon. It had never happened before. And that was enough to cause him great pleasure.

Then there was something else that made Nimble believe himself to be a person of some account: A strange affair had happened at the lake. He had seen it all. He had taken part in it himself. Really it was no wonder that he began to talk quite importantly.

"It was lucky I was with you," he remarked to his mother as they rested amid the tangle of Cedar Swamp.

"It was lucky we weren't any further out in the lake," she exclaimed.

"If you hadn't been with me no doubt I'd have gone where the water was much deeper. And that light would have caught me before I could have reached the sh.o.r.e."

What his mother said made Nimble feel bigger than ever. He wasn't quite sure what had happened back there, where they had been surprised while eating water lilies. But he meant to find out, for he thought it would make a good story to tell his friends.

"Would the moon have burnt us if it had hit us?" he inquired.

"What in the world are you talking about?" his mother asked him.