The Tale of Nimble Deer | Page 6

to rouse old dog Spot. And we can't have him
ranging around while we're dining."

"Then tell everybody to go home!" Nimble suggested. "Tell them to go
'way!"
"No!" said his mother. "That wouldn't be polite."
She was silent for a few moments. And then she explained to Jimmy
Rabbit and to the owners of the pairs of eyes that still stared at her out
of the darkness. She explained that on account of an unexpected party
she wasn't going to the carrot patch that night.
"When are you going?" asked the owner of one pair of specially bright
eyes.
"Ha!" Nimble's mother exclaimed. "Is that Cuffy Bear speaking?"
"Yessum!" said the same voice.
"I fear," she told him, "I may not be able to go for a long time."
"Never mind!" Cuffy cried. "I can go any night--that is, until I den up
for the winter."
And every one in the company declared that he hadn't a single
engagement that would prevent him from visiting the garden whenever
Nimble's mother should say the word.
"Well," said she, "it won't be to-night, anyhow." And with that she
turned around and began to walk along the runway again, away from
the pasture fence.
As Nimble followed her Jimmy Rabbit skipped alongside him and
whispered in his ear.
"Don't fail to let me know when the time comes!"
But Nimble said never a word. Somehow he suspected that he had
made a great mistake.
He knew he had, a little later.

VII
THE STRANGE LIGHT
Weeks went by; and still Nimble's mother said no more about visiting
Farmer Green's carrot patch. Nimble himself did not dare to mention
carrots now. It was his own fault that the excursion had been postponed.
And much as he still wanted a taste of carrots the whole affair was
something he didn't care to talk about.
Anyhow, it was lucky that he liked water lilies. For his mother took
him to the lake behind Blue Mountain every night, almost. And there
they splashed in the shallows and ate all they wanted.
Most of those nights were much alike. But there was one that Nimble
remembered for many a day afterward.
It was not a dark night; neither was it a light one. It was a half-and-half
sort of night. There was a moon. But it was far from full. And it was
not high in the sky. The light from it came slanting down upon the lake,
throwing the shadows of the trees far out upon the water.
Where those shadows reached out darkly Nimble and his mother stood
with the water lapping their sleek bodies. And they were eating so
busily that neither of them noticed a blurred shape that glided slowly
nearer and nearer to them, without making the slightest sound.
All at once a shaft of dazzling light swept along the shore. Nimble was
so surprised and puzzled that he stopped eating to stand still and gaze at
it.
[Illustration: Never Had Nimble Run So Fast Before. Page 42]
But only for a moment! Instantly his mother flung her tail upward, so
that the under side of it gleamed white even in the half light. And
that--as Nimble knew right well--that was the danger signal.

Almost before Nimble knew what was happening his mother made for
the shore. As she plunged through the water her tail, still aloft like a
flag, twitched from side to side.
Nimble needed no urging to follow it. Soon they scrambled, dripping,
out of the lake to dive headlong into the cover of the overhanging
willows.
In those few seconds the light darted swiftly towards them. But it was
not quite quick enough. Only the ripples told where they had been
standing. Only the gently waving branches of the willows showed
where Nimble and his mother had vanished.
A noise like a thunder-clap crashed upon Nimble's ears and rolled and
tumbled in the distance, tossed from the mountain to the hills across the
lake, and back again. It frightened Nimble much more than did the odd
whistle that whined just above his head a moment before the thunder
peal.
Never had he run so fast before. Never had his mother set such a pace
for him. Usually, when startled, she stopped after going a short distance
and looked back to try to get a glimpse of whoever or whatever had
alarmed her. To be sure, she always stopped in a good place, like the
edge of Cedar Swamp, where she could duck out of sight if need be.
But this time Nimble's mother ran on and on without pausing.
"Haven't you forgotten something?" her son gasped after a while.
"Forgotten something? What do you mean?" she asked.
"Haven't you forgotten to stop?" Nimble inquired.
A queer look came over her face.