Forest World Read Online Free PDF Page B

“During the mating season I too become angry at my own kind. At such times we all get angry.”
    â€œEven though they happen very seldom,” continued the first stag, “such acts of violence live in the memory of our children and their children. It is not surprising that smaller ones are frightened at the mere sight of us and flee because of our power. Who would dare fight with one of us?”
    â€œDo you feel a prickling in your crown as I do?” the six-pointer asked.
    â€œA little,” answered the ten-pointer.
    Tambo said, “My crown isn’t hard enough yet. But soon I’ll rub it against the tree trunks.”
    They wandered apart, each sauntering by himself.Tambo drifted toward the lookout, then stopped suddenly as he caught sight of Martin. After a few seconds he strolled quietly back to the other two and murmured, “Imagine! He is here!”
    â€œThat’s nothing,” the ten-pointer said. “He comes here every day.”
    But the young six-pointer grew excited. “Where? Where is He? I’ve never seen Him!”
    The three stags stared upward at Martin. He found it the purest joy to have them watch him without fear.
    â€œCan you see Him?” asked the ten-pointer of the youngest stag.
    â€œYes! He looks dreadful—dreadful!” The young deer stamped and nervously approached the platform. Curiosity made him bold, yet he was prepared for flight.
    â€œHe’s not dreadful at all,” Tambo retorted. “I know Him. You must get used to Him.”
    â€œNo,” whispered the six-pointer, “I couldn’t. I can’t bear that look of His!” And he leaped away into the thicket.
    â€œYoung and stupid and inexperienced,” Tambo scoffed good-naturedly.
    â€œIt’s time for us to go too,” the ten-pointer urged.
    â€œWell, let’s go then. It’s all right with me.”
    They moved away slowly, lifting their slender legs in proud mincing steps, nibbling here and there at the young shoots by the forest’s edge. Finally they vanished into the wall of brush.
    Martin watched their majestic departure with the keenest enjoyment. Then he turned his gaze over the green ocean of treetops toward the coming of the day.
    In the sky the light green was giving way to a pale lemon-yellow. The yellow grew deeper and deeper until it was shot through by tongues of pink which in turn became streamers of flame. Martin witnessed the display with delight. No matter how often he saw this climax, its effect upon him was never less. Instead, from year to year it entranced him ever more.
    *  *  *
    Old Peter was in the barn milking the cow.
    â€œYes, Lisa. It won’t be long before you’re calving.”
    The brown cow turned her wide-browed head to him, a question in her large eyes.
    Peter said again, “Yes, Lisa, soon. Very soon now.”
    The cow lowed softly.
    â€œNow you can go out in the sun,” Peter said. “It’ll do you good.”
    Lisa moved off with her slow lumbering gait, stopping for a moment in the doorway. She managed a little leap over the doorsill and ambled off laboriously.
    The Persian tomcat looked with interest at Peter who was pouring some milk out of the pail into a saucer on the floor. “There you are, Shah,” Peter told him. “Your share.”
    The cat stepped up to the saucer with dignity. He sat down close to it and lapped daintily, with affectation but without greed.
    â€œIt takes people who can admire spirit to appreciate a cat,” Peter thought. “That Shah is a free, wild creature. He doesn’t allow himself to be ordered around. He defends himself, and he gives his friendship only to those who deserve it.”
    Out of the wall trough Peter fetched a small piece of raw meat which he had prepared beforehand. In a lowinviting tone he called, “Gentle guest, where are you?”
    From a dark corner up under the roof a great gray owl flew