orest who would be missed as Lightfoot will be."

Bobby Coon nodded. "That's true, Sammy," said he. "Without Lightfoot,
the Green Forest will never be the same. He never harmed anybody. Why
those hunters should have been so anxious to kill one so beautiful is
something I can't understand. For that matter, I don't understand why
they want to kill any of us. If they really needed us for food, it would
be a different matter, but they don't. Have you been up in the Old
Pasture and asked Old Man Coyote if he has seen anything of Lightfoot?"

Sammy nodded. "I've been up there twice," said he. "Old Man Coyote has
been lying very low during the days, but nights he has done a lot of
traveling. You know Old Man Coyote has a mighty good nose, but not once
since the day those hounds chased Lightfoot has he found so much as a
tiny whiff of Lightfoot's scent. I thought he might have found the place
where Lightfoot was killed, but he hasn't, although he has looked for
it. Well, the hunting season for Lightfoot is over, but I am afraid it
has ended too late."

CHAPTER XXIX

Mr. AND MRS. QUACK ARE STARTLED

It was the evening of the day after the closing of the hunting season
for Lightfoot the Deer. Jolly, round, red Mr. Sun had gone to bed behind
the Purple Hills, and the Black Shadows had crept out across the Big
River. Mr. and Mrs. Quack were getting their evening meal among the
brown stalks of the wild rice along the edge of the Big River. They took
turns in searching for the rice grains in the mud. While Mrs. Quack
tipped up and seemed to stand on her head as she searched in the mud
for rice, Mr. Quack kept watch for possible danger. Then Mrs. Quack took
her turn at keeping watch, while Mr. Quack stood on his head and hunted
for rice.

It was wonderfully quiet and peaceful. There was not even a ripple on
the Big River. It was so quiet that they could hear the barking of a dog
at a farmhouse a mile away. They were far enough out from the bank to
have nothing to fear from Reddy Fox or Old Man Coyote. So they had
nothing to fear from any one save Hooty the Owl. It was for Hooty that
they took turns in watching. It was just the hour when Hooty likes best
to hunt.

By and by they heard Hooty's hunting call. It was far away in the Green
Forest. Then Mr. and Mrs. Quack felt easier, and they talked in low,
contented voices. They felt that for a while at least there was nothing
to fear.

Suddenly a little splash out in the