The Story of a Red Deer

by Sir J. W. Fortescue

"I ha'n't never been on the moor," said the little bird, "but there's more of 'ee down the valley, at least I think there be, for, begging your honour's pardon, I don't rightly know who you be. Do 'ee want to know the way? Then follow down the river till you'm clear of the woods and then turn up over the fields, till you see another wood, and that will bring 'ee to the place where your friends be. And I beg your honour's pardon for mistaking your honour for a sheep-dog, for I've never seen the like of you before, but they sheep-dogs do worry us poor Partridges terrible."

And she bustled away with her Chicks. But the Pricket was so much excited to hear of other Deer that he entreated his mother to go where the Partridge had told them. And they went just as she had said, over the fields and into the wood that she spoke of, but to their disappointment saw no sign of a deer there. So they passed on through the wood to the valley again, and then they came to a park with the river running through it, and great trees bigger than he had ever seen, beech and oak and lime and chestnut, some in rows and some in clumps, a beautiful expanse of green, all dripping in the morning dew. And there the Pricket saw deer, and he was so delighted that he ran on by himself to speak to them; but he was puzzled, for some of them were black, and some were white, and some were red, and the greater part were spotted; while not one was near so big as he was, though many of them had growing horns as big as his own and bigger. So he made sure that they must all be calves with some new description of horn, and going up to the biggest of them he said rather patronisingly, "Good morning, my little friend."

But the other turned round and said, "Little friend! Do you know who I am, sir? I am the Master-Buck of this park, sir, and I'll trouble you not to call me your little friend."

"But why don't you come to the woods and on to the moor?" said the Pricket, astonished. "I've never seen you there."

"Did you hear me say that I was the Master-Buck of this park, sir?" said the Fallow-Buck, "and do you know what that means? I am lord of the whole of this herd, and master of everything inside this park-fence. What do I want with woods and moors, when I have all this beautiful green park for a kingdom, and all this grass to feed on in the summer, and hay, sir, hay brought to me in the winter? Do you get hay brought to you in the winter, sir?"

"Why," broke in the Pricket, "do you mean to say that you can't feed yourself?"

But here the Hind trotted up and fetched her son away. "They are only miserable little tame Fallow-Deer," she said. "You should never have lowered yourself to speak to them."

"No, mother," he answered; "but fancy preferring to live in a wretched little park instead of wandering free through the woods and over the moor! Do let me go back and thrash him."

But when the Fallow-Buck heard this he trotted away as quick as he could; and mother and son went back into the wood. And as they entered it a very handsome bird with a grey back and a rosy breast and bright blue on his wings fluttered over their heads screeching at the top of his voice. "Come in," he said, "please to come right in. But we Jays be put here to scritch when any stranger cometh into the wood, and scritch I must and scritch I shall." And certainly he did, in a most unpleasant tone, for he had been watching a brood of another bird's chicks instead of minding his proper business, and so had missed them when they first came in. So he screeched double to make up for lost time.

Then presently there came towards them another bird, walking very daintily on the ground. He had a green neck and bright red round his eyes, and a coat which shone like burnished copper mixed with burnished gold. He stopped as they came up, and waiting till the Pricket had wandered a little way from his mother, he went up to him and said in a very patronising tone: "Welcome, young sir, welcome to my wood. I have not the pleasure of knowing who you are, but my name I expect is familiar to you. Phasianus Colchicus, ahem—" and he strutted about with great importance. "You have heard of me, no doubt."