Mother Deer whispered in her son’s ears: “Never mind, White Tail. We have to learn to take such things in life unselfishly. Right always triumphs in the end. Don’t let it worry you.”
“It doesn’t worry me, Mother Deer. But it makes me feel angry.”
Further conversation was stopped by Father Buck announcing that the herd would go to the lower timberland to graze on the succulent grass that bordered Puma’s hunting ground. The grass was in the rich, tender stage, and the deer enjoyed it as a sort of luxury. The fact that Puma had selected this spot as his special hunting ground could not keep the deer away, and Father Buck’s announcement was hailed with delight.
“We must keep together,” he cautioned, “with the does and fawns inside, and the bucks outside, for Puma may be abroad, although he’s not to be feared so much in the day time. If he’s asleep in his lair we won’t disturb him.”
The spice of danger added to the zest of the adventure. The grass always had a much sweeter taste and a richer flavor when it was gathered right under the nose of Puma. The young bucks kicked up their heels and ran ahead. While they were not anxious to draw Puma from his lair, they wanted to show to the fawns and does they were unafraid.
“If Puma comes for me I’ll show him a clean pair of heels!” boasted one.
“And I,” said another, “will give him a race that he’ll never forget.”
Little did they know of what they were boasting. Puma the Mountain Lion never laid any great claim to swift, long distance running. He knew he was no match for the fleet deer in this respect.
But he had ways and tricks of his own. His favorite method was to hide among the thick foliage of the trees, and when a buck or doe passed underneath to spring upon its back. Once caught in this way no deer had a chance to escape. All the speed in the world would not avail the poor creature then.
Puma was a terrible hunter. At night time he roamed about the dark woods and scented out his sleeping prey, and with one blow from his great paw he could break the back of a buck or crush the skull of a smaller animal. He could climb a tree like a cat, and crouch flat in the bushes out of sight to spring up as swiftly as a deer leaping a chasm.