Followers of the Trail

by Zoe Meyer

That summer Brown Brother grew his first antlers. Mere prongs they were, but the deer felt very proud of them as he carefully rubbed off the velvet. He often visited alone the gardens of the farmers at the edge of the wilderness. Sometimes in the dark hours before the dawn he went close to the cabin of the Hermit, drawn, it seemed, simply by curiosity. Occasionally at his harvesting in the forest the Hermit would look up to find himself regarded by a pair of great brown eyes. At such times he would assume his old position, standing perfectly still with outstretched hand, his eyes narrowed to mere slits lest they make the wild thing uneasy.

The animal, also, would stand immovable for a moment; then training would conquer curiosity and, with a snort of fear, he would bound gracefully away, his white flag gleaming occasionally between the trees until the animal was lost to sight. One day the Hermit left a lump of sugar upon the log beside which he had been standing and, secreting himself at a safe distance, waited. As he had hoped, the deer returned, eagerly licked up the sweet morsel and nosed about for more. After that the Hermit made it a practice, upon sighting the deer, to leave a bit of salt or sugar in a conspicuous place. The animal would invariably return to it. And so the Hermit was content to have their friendship rest, never attempting to force himself upon the wary but courageous animal.

The summer that Brown Brother attained his first full set of antlers a forest fire devastated a great section of the wilderness to the northward. The animals fled in terror before it, lynx and deer, fox and rabbit, side by side, all personal feuds forgotten in the great common danger. Many perished, overtaken by the flames which, fanned by a brisk wind from the north, traveled with lightning-like rapidity. It had been weeks since rain had fallen upon the forest and the underbrush was like tinder. Great trees became in an instant towers of flame as the fire roared onward like a living thing. The animals, their fur singed by sparks and their eyes red and smarting with smoke, sought the water holes, the strong shouldering the weak aside to get the best places, great fierce animals, once the terror of the forest, whimpering like frightened cubs.

For days the air about the cabin of the Hermit had been hazy and had carried the faint scent of smoke, which grew ever thicker. By day the sun shone red through the haze and at night the dark sky above the forest to the north alternately glowed and dulled as with the pulsations of the Aurora.

The farmers had dug wide fire guards about their clearings and kept cloths saturated with water ready for instant use. The Hermit no longer took trips far into the forest, but remained near the cabin, Pal always trotting uneasily at his heels. Like his neighbors, the Hermit watched and hoped for a change in the wind, which would be the only means of saving their homes.

Early one morning, as he was preparing his breakfast, a slight noise at the door caused him to look up. There, framed in the doorway, stood a noble buck, its great antlers proclaiming it a king of its kind. For a moment the two gazed at each other; then the Hermit held out his hand. At the movement the deer backed away, blowing out his breath gustily. The Hermit laid a lump of sugar upon the doorsill and stepped back.

Brown Brother, for it was he, looked at the sugar a moment, then advanced warily but with a certain dignity, and daintily accepted the offering. The Hermit did not force his advantage, but did everything in his power to gain the confidence of the noble beast which had been driven by the fire to his protection.

"The forest fire brought me one blessing, anyway, didn't it, Brown Brother?" the Hermit said softly, as he watched the buck eagerly drinking from a pail of water which he had thought to provide. Pal, strange to say, paid scant attention to the deer. Something in the heavy atmosphere seemed to weigh upon his spirits, for he crowded close upon the heels of his master. When the man seated himself the dog crept between his knees.

Then suddenly the wind veered, blowing strongly from the west and bringing with it the rain. The fire was checked while yet many miles from the border of the wilderness and was soon extinguished, leaving blackened ground and bare, charred trees to show where it had passed.

With the rain and the fresh air, once more free of smoke, new strength seemed to flow into the veins of humans and animals alike. Pal took a new interest in life and once more roamed about by himself. Brown Brother returned to the forest, stepping with the dignity which befitted the position he was soon to hold as leader of a herd.