“Wait a minute!” exclaimed Washer quietly. “I think I can suggest a way. My hole is right on the edge of Black Ravine. I built it there so I could watch the sun rise every morning. It’s a beautiful place, even if I do say so.”
White Tail and Young Black Buck turned to him, and waited impatiently for him to proceed. Washer was aggravatingly slow. They were not a bit interested in the beautiful view he had from his hole.
“Black Ravine drops down fifty feet, and if I should ever forget myself and fall over the edge it would be the last of me,” Washer continued, deliberately picking his teeth with a twig. “Yes, I told Mrs. Washer several times it was a beautiful but dangerous spot to bring up our children. They might tumble into the ravine.”
“Never mind the ravine, Washer,” interrupted White Tail. “You said you had a way for us to escape. Please tell us what it is.”
“I was coming to that. You’re very impatient, White Tail. And the ravine has a good deal to do with my plan. It’s twenty feet across from side to side. Can you jump twenty feet?”
“Why, I don’t know, but maybe if—”
“All right then,” Washer interrupted. “I’ll show you the way to Black Ravine in front of my house. If Puma or Timber pursue you all you got to do is to leap across the ravine. Timber couldn’t follow you, and I don’t think Puma can jump that far. If he couldn’t you’d have a big head start. Puma and Timber would have to go a mile down the ravine before they could cross. It’s wider in front of my house than at the ends.”
Washer’s plan dawned upon their minds in an instant, and both bucks sprang up as if to start for Black Ravine at once.
“We’ll do it!” exclaimed White Tail. “I’ll make the jump if I fall in the ravine. It’s better that way than to be pulled down by Puma or Timber.”
“It’s much better not to fall at all,” was Washer’s quiet remark. “But now don’t get excited, or you’ll jump from the frying-pan into the fire. How do you know if one of Timber’s family isn’t watching the ravine? He may be.”