er he had got
Lightfoot the Deer. He wanted to get Lightfoot first, and he knew
that to shoot at anything else might spoil his chance of getting
a shot at Lightfoot.

"Sammy Jay did me a good turn," thought the hunter, "although he
doesn't know it. Reddy Fox certainly would have caught one of
those Ducks had Sammy not come along just when he did. It would
have been a shame to have had one of them caught by that Fox.
I mean to get one, and I hope both of them, myself."

Now when you come to think of it, it would have been a far
greater shame for the hunter to have killed Mr. and Mrs. Quack
than for Reddy Fox to have done so. Reddy was hunting them
because he was hungry. The hunter would have shot them for
sport. He didn't need them. He had plenty of other food.
Reddy Fox doesn't kill just for the pleasure of killing.

So the hunter continued to sit in his hiding-place with very
friendly feelings for Sammy Jay. Sammy watched Reddy Fox
disappear and then flew over to that side of the pond where the
hunter was. Mr. and Mrs. Quack called their thanks to Sammy, to
which he replied, that he had done no more for them than he would
do for anybody, or than they would have done for him.

For some time Sammy sat quietly in the top of the tree, but all
the time his sharp eyes were very busy. By and by he spied the
hunter sitting on the log. At first he couldn't make out just
what it was he was looking at. It didn't move, but nevertheless
Sammy was suspicious. Presently he flew over to a tree where he
could see better. Right away he spied the terrible gun, and he
knew just what that was. Once more he began to yell, "Thief!
thief! thief!" at the top of his lungs. It was then that the
hunter lost his temper. He knew that now he had been discovered
by Sammy Jay, and it was useless to remain there longer. He was
angry clear through.

CHAPTER XIX: Sammy Jay Is Modest

As soon as the angry hunter with the terrible gun had disappeared
among the trees of the Green Forest, and Lightfoot was sure that
he had gone for good, Lightfoot came out from his hiding-place on
top of the ridge and walked down to the pond of Paddy the Beaver
for a drink. He knew that it was quite safe to do so, for Sammy
Jay had followed the hunter, all the time screaming, "Thief!
thief! thief!" Every one within hearing could tell just where
that hunter was by Sammy's voice. It kept growing fainter and
fainter, and by that Lightfoot