This suggestion dashed their hopes, and sent the cold chills down their backs. No one could tell where the wolves and pumas were scattered. They were closing in upon them on all sides. They might surprise the cornered bucks before ever they could reach Black Ravine.
“The only way I can suggest,” added Washer, “is for Downy to fly ahead, and report to us where they’re hiding. You could do that, Downy, couldn’t you?”
“Why, certainly. I’d be glad to.”
“Then I wouldn’t waste any time.”
Downy immediately flew away in the direction of Black Ravine, while White Tail and Young Black Buck waited impatiently for his return. It seemed a long, long time to them, and every few moments they could hear the call of Timber and his pack. They were drawing nearer and nearer until finally it seemed as if one was in the bushes not a dozen rods away.
Downy came back finally, and said:
“It’s all right, but you must hurry. They’re closing in so that if you don’t reach Black Ravine soon they’ll head you off. This way! Follow me!”
He flew off to the right, but swift as he was White Tail and Young Buck were hardly a yard behind him. They fairly flew across the ground, leaping low bushes and trees in their flight. Washer, being much slower, decided not to follow. He knew another hole where he could hide until the danger was over.
“Here they come!” screamed Downy suddenly. “Now run for your lives! There’s Black Ravine ahead!”
At the same instant Timber and his pack broke cover, and started for the fleeing bucks in the open. Close on their right was Puma and his mate. They set up a yelping and howling that made the blood of the deer curdle. It had to be a short race, for other wolves ahead threatened to cut them off.