White Tail trotted back on the embankment, but he discovered there was little room for a start. It was almost a standing leap. That was why it was so hard. Across on the other side the embankment shelved down gradually to the shore, with grass and moss covering the bold face of the rock.
“Take your time,” Father Buck cautioned. “Measure the distance well, and do not spring unless you’re sure of yourself. Many a buck that failed the first time never got his courage up to repeat it. It is the first leap that counts.”
Reflecting long and earnestly on his father’s words, White Tail measured the distance with his eyes, and then drew back as far as he could. He gathered his powerful hind legs together, squatted down on them, pawed the rock with his front ones, and stood a moment in trembling anticipation. His nostrils dilated, his eyes flashed. Then with a sudden forward spring he darted toward the edge of the rock, and when he reached it his hind hoofs dug on the rock for a secure purchase. There was a momentary hesitation, as if he had decided not to make the attempt. Then his body shot upward and outward across the brook in the prettiest jump that any deer had ever taken.
He cleared the brook, with its stepping stones, passed the opposite edge, and landed all four hoofs firmly planted on the upper part of the slope. He had made the jump successfully.
Father Buck crossed the stream on the stones, and glanced down at his old mark. A spirit of exultation seized him.
“You have passed my old mark, White Tail, beaten it by a foot,” he said. “You will some day be leader, I know.”
White Tail was as much interested as his father in his triumph. He examined the marks, and then wanted to repeat the jump to see if he could better it.
“No,” cautioned Father Buck, “once is sufficient. The second time may not be so good. You have established your mark. We will scratch it here with our hoofs as a challenge to all others. Let Young Black Buck beat it if he can. Until he does that is your mark.”
White Tail accepted this order, and made no further attempt to jump the brook. If Young Black Buck beats it some day then he would have a chance to try it again, and, if possible, score a longer jump.
“What was your other purpose in bringing me here today?” he asked remembering his father’s words.