Downy nodded his head, and began pecking away at the bark of the tree for another grub. Young Black Buck looked thankfully at the speaker, but said nothing.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to leave you soon,” Downy remarked after a while. “I’m a long distance from my home, and I don’t see that I can help you any by staying.”
“No,” smiled White Tail, “except to give us warning of danger when it comes.”
“There’s no danger now unless—”
He stopped and listened attentively.
“Unless what, Downy?”
“I don’t know that I should say it, for I don’t want to frighten you, but there are man hunters in this woods. They’ve pitched a camp a few miles back of here. But if they haven’t dogs with them they won’t find you. Just keep quiet here in the bushes until morning.”
“We certainly will,” replied White Tail. “I dread the man hunters as much as Puma and Timber, especially if they have dogs.”
And all through the night, he thought and dreamt of the man hunters, but nothing happened until morning, and then the distant baying of a dog startled him.