CHAPTER IX
THE HUNTER
ONE morning a party of huntsmen stopped at the Ranger’s cabin. It was open season for deer, and they meant to make the most of those few weeks by shooting what the law allowed them.
Fuzzy-Wuzz had to wear a red bow on his neck these days, so that the huntsmen would not mistake him for a wild bear. For it was open season all the year around for bears, and a hunter loves nothing better than to kill a cub and have bear steak for breakfast. But Dapple wore no collar, as it was against the law to kill fawns at any time of the year.
The children had been playing tag with Dapple in the woods when they fell asleep in the sunshine of an open hillside. Dapple,too, took a nap nearby, but instead of lying right out in the open, as they did, her instinct told her it was safer under the dappled shade of a clump of bushes.
One of the huntsmen, peering over the brow of the hill, saw a little movement in Dapple’s clump of bushes, as Dapple awoke and began cropping the leaves. Thinking it was a porcupine that had set the bushes swaying (and not being sportsman enough to make sure), he fired.
Dapple gave a scream of pain, and went bounding away on three legs. The children, thus awakened, stared after her, then started to follow her dainty hoof prints. Soon they noticed drops of blood on the stones.
At the same time the huntsman, seeing the children, came on the run. “Oh, I say!” he called, “I hope I didn’t hurt any one?”
“You’ve killed Dapple,” sobbed the little girl.
“You’ve shot Dapple!” shouted the boy. And to his sister, “I’d like to shoot HIM in the leg, and see how HE likes it!”
“Who’s ‘Dapple’?” gasped the huntsman, alarmed.
“She’s our tame fawn!” yelled the boy angrily.
“I’m so sorry,” apologized the huntsman. “I thought it was a porcupine.”
“Oh, then you didn’t mean to do it,” forgave the little girl.
It was decided that the huntsman had better not go with the children lest he frighten the fawn still further away.
“Dapple! Come, Dapple!” they called gently, as they traced the staggering footprints. They came upon the little creature lying on her side. Tenderly the boy carried her home in his arms, and the Ranger removed the bullet and bound the wound up properly.
Such an appealing invalid as Dapple made, with her great, reproachful eyes, that Fuzzy felt himself neglected. The day came, though, when the wounded leg was well. That day Dapple was allowed to follow them into the cabin, and even Fuzzy-Wuzz gave her a lick with his warm, moist tongue.