promptly took advantage of the fact to try to reach that Deer
before he could get across. You are not hunting for the pleasure
of hunting but just to kill. You don't know the meaning of
justice or fairness. Now get off my land. Get back into your
boat and off my land as quick as you can. That Deer is not very
far from here and so tired that he cannot move. Just as long as
he will stay here, he will be safe, and I hope he will stay until
this miserable hunting season is ended. Now go."

Muttering angrily, the hunter got back into his boat and pushed
off, but he didn't row back across the river.

CHAPTER XXV: The Hunter Lies In Wait

If ever there was an angry hunter, it was the one who had
followed Lightfoot the Deer across the Big River. When he was
ordered to get off the land where Lightfoot had climbed out, he
got back into his boat, but he didn't row back to the other side.
Instead, he rowed down the river, finally landing on the
same side but on land which Lightfoot's friend did not own.

"When that Deer has become rested he'll become uneasy," thought
the hunter. "He won't stay on that man's land. He'll start for
the nearest woods. I'll go up there and wait for him. I'll get
that Deer if only to spite that fellow back there who drove me off.
Had it not been for him, I'd have that Deer right now. He was
too tired to have gone far. He's got the handsomest pair of
antlers I've seen for years. I can sell that head of his for a
good price."

So the hunter tied his boat to a tree and once more climbed
out. He climbed up the bank and studied the land. Across a wide
meadow he could see a brushy old pasture and back of that some
thick woods. He grinned.

"That's where that Deer will head for," he decided. "There isn't
any other place for him to go. All I've got to do is be patient
and wait."

So the hunter took his terrible gun and tramped across the meadow
to the brush-grown pasture. There he hid among the bushes where
he could peep out and watch the land of Lightfoot's friend.
He was still angry because he had been prevented from shooting
Lightfoot. At the same time he chuckled, because he thought
himself very smart. Lightfoot couldn't possibly reach the shelter
of the woods without giving him a shot, and he hadn't the least
doubt that Lightfoot would start for the woods just as soon as he
felt able to travel. So he made himself comfortable and prepared
to wait the rest of the day, if