Chapter III: Part 3

Father Buck had led the herd for so many seasons that none but the older ones could remember when he was not their leader. In all those days and seasons he had been shrewd, wise and courageous so that few accidents had happened to any of the deer. His had been the most successful leadership that any could recall.

When they assembled at the Council Tree, Father Buck was there ahead of them, standing lonely and aloof in the place of honor under the big tree. His lordly head, with its great spread of antlers, was held high, so that some of those who had come to scoff and laugh at him felt a sudden awe. There was none of the meekness and humility of a fallen leader in his attitude.

Black Buck and the other older bucks, who had long years before contended with Father Buck for leadership, were impressed by his looks, and they took their places in the semi-circle in uneasy silence. Suppose Father Buck should challenge again for leadership despite his failure of the previous day! Could any of them win in a mighty battle with him? They, too, were growing old, and their limbs and eyes were not as strong and sure as when they were young.

“You know the law of the herd, and of my people,” Father Buck announced when all the deer were there. “Yesterday I failed you. It was the first time since I became your leader. Now the call is for a new leader unless I challenge for it again, and win it by my might.”

He swung his antlered head around at the half circle of older bucks. There was a menace and challenge in the beautiful eyes.

“We want a new leader!” bellowed Black Buck angrily. “You can’t lead us again, Father Buck! You have failed in the chase. Twice you failed within a day. A new leader is what we demand!”

There was a chorus of approvals, and Black Buck gained courage by the backing his words received, but Father Buck cut him off short.

“Be silent!” he said. “I am still leader, and my word is law! If I choose to challenge again, the right is mine. It is the law of the herd. Who speaks otherwise?”

There was no disputing this. The law of the herd was very simple, and it had to be obeyed. Even Black Buck knew this, and if he chose Father Buck could challenge and prove his right to remain leader if he proved himself better than all others.

“If you challenge again,” began Black Buck, “you must do battle with the young bucks as well as the others. That’s the law isn’t it?”

“It is!” replied Father Buck. “Young and old may meet the challenger. But I first issue my challenge to the older ones. That is my right. I may be old and weak, my eyes may be growing dim, and my legs less active and sure; but I am still leader, and I issue the first challenge. All you bucks more than three seasons old step forth! It is to you I issue this challenge. Come and accept it. I will fight for the leadership!”

An uneasy thrill swept the multitude. Each turned to look the other in the eye. Who would accept Father Buck’s challenge? Black Buck hesitated, measuring the sturdy limbs of the leader with his own, and comparing the thick-set neck and head of antlers with those of his immediate neighbors. There was not one qualified to enter the lists and hope to carry off the honors.

“I hear no one!” shouted Father Buck. “The challenge is not accepted. So be it! Then we come to the second challenge. Here, too, the law gives me the right to fight with the younger bucks for leadership. We have many of them—young, sturdy, bright-eyed offsprings of ours who will some day win honors in the chase. They have eyes as keen as ours were at one time; limbs as straight and strong; minds as active and intelligent. We have taught them the ways of the woods, and they come to the Council Tree today to prove their rights.”

He stopped and gazed around at the big assembly. His words and commanding figure had made even Father Buck’s worst enemies respectful. The outcome of the meeting was still uncertain and wrapped in mystery.

“Therefore,” the leader continued after a pause, “it is for them to decide the leadership. I have no wish to challenge them. I could not conquer them if I chose. It shall be as they decide. Who of the younger ones challenges for the high honor of leader to take my place?”

A thrill of excitement passed around, for the crucial moment had now arrived. Father Buck did not intend to fight to retain the leadership. There was an instant pause in which you could have heard a twig snap, and then Young Black Buck, with head held high, stepped to the center of the semi-circle. He trotted gracefully around several times, and then halted before Father Buck.

“I, Young Black Buck, son of Black Buck of Dismal Swamp, challenge for the leadership! I shall prove my right to it by the one test that is required by the law of the herd—a battle with all comers!”

“It is well, Young Black Buck!” replied Father Buck, looking at the haughty eyes of the challenger. “You have been the first to challenge. Is there any other?”

The aged leader turned his head just a little so that his eyes could rest upon White Tail, but it did not need this look to inspire his son. White Tail had already started forward, and with no less pride and dignity than Young Black Buck he trotted into the center of the clearing.

“I, White Tail, son of your great leader and of Mother Deer, accept the challenge. As I have proved greater than Young Black Buck in the chase, in the long jump, and in other ways, I shall prove to you in combat that I am better fitted to lead the herd than he.”

The excitement reached a climax when White Tail had finished his challenge, but Father Buck raised his head again to speak.

“Who next challenges! The law of the herd permits any one under three seasons. Who speaks?”

There was no answer, and no one stepped forward. The aged leader cast his eyes slowly around the crowd to make sure he had missed none, and then returned to the two challengers.

“So be it!” he said. “The leadership shall be settled between these two—White Tail and Young Black Buck. The herd must accept the victor as their leader.”

In the next story will come the combat.

STORY XV
THE GREAT COMBAT

Now the law of the herd says that the challengers for leadership shall fight until one or the other is victor. If it takes hours or days or weeks it must continue until one is beaten and can no longer fight. The rules are simple. He must prove himself the victor by strength, cunning, intelligence, trickery or any other way. The leader must be supreme so that none again dare challenge his authority.

It is always a battle royal in the woods. It never ends in a draw, except in those few sad but rare cases when horns and antlers get interlocked, and neither can pull away until both starve. Then a new challenge must be issued, and another leader chosen. Of this, both White Tail and Young Black Buck knew, and above all they sought to keep their horns and antlers from becoming interlocked. It availed the victor little to conquer if he starved with the vanquished.

When they sprang toward each other with lowered heads, they kept a wary eye out for the other’s twisted antlers. It was a light charge at first, a mere test of skill and strength; but their heads came together with a shock that sounded throughout the woods.

Then they withdrew, and trotted around each other, waiting for a favorable opening. Both knew that one blow against the side or limbs of the other would cripple his antagonist so the fight would be short. After circling White Tail three times, Young Black Buck launched his head straight for the flanks of his enemy, and for a moment it looked as if he would gain a great advantage; but at the critical instant White Tail turned and met the charge head-on. The clash of antlers was terrific but neither went down.

Next they butted in short, sharp swings of the head, slashing, cutting and pounding with all their might. It was like a close-in sparring match between two skilled boxers, each waiting for an opening to deliver a fatal blow. But both were as swift in defense as in offense.

They withdrew from the conflict, and trotted around each other once more. This time White Tail led the attack. Rearing on his hind legs, he brought all the weight of his body in a downward blow that made Young Black Buck shake and tremble. For a moment neither could recover from the terrible shock, so swift and powerful had the blow been. A thrill of excitement went through the assembled herd.

“Well done!” exclaimed Father Buck.

“But not better than my son can do!” echoed Black Buck.

To prove the truth of his father’s words, Young Black Buck turned a complete circle, suddenly reared, and brought his head down in another terrific blow. White Tail received it, and for a time their horns and antlers became locked. They pulled and jerked, pushed and twisted all over the open space to free their heads. With a sudden snap, the antlers loosened, and they were free once more.

The battle grew more vigorous now that the two combatants were warmed to the fray. They began to put more speed in their motions, and more force in their blows. Confident that neither one could take advantage of the other, they fell back to hard hitting. In this strength counted, and it was soon seen that they were pretty evenly matched. Again and again they received and administered punishment.

It may have seemed cruel to one not acquainted with the laws of the wild deer, but not so to the spectators nor to the fighters. The leadership had to be decided in this manner, and either combatant had the right to stop it by yielding to the other. But neither White Tail nor Young Black Buck had any intention of doing this.

The blood of the older ones was warmed by the sight. Father Buck recalled the day when he fought Black Buck for leadership, and he was proud of his son now fighting over again his own battles. Even Mother Deer, tenderhearted as she was, admired and applauded White Tail. She knew the battle once decided in his favor would never have to be repeated.

White Tail suddenly delivered a crushing blow upon his enemy’s head that brought him to his knees. For an instant every one held his breath, but before White Tail could take advantage of it with another blow he slipped and nearly fell to his own knees. Young Black Buck was up in an instant, and made a wild rush for his adversary. White Tail was prepared, and received it steadily.

The combat continued for an hour, two hours, three hours, until the flanks of both were covered with foam. And still they butted and bucked, and fought with all their might! Their breath was coming in short gasps, and their eyes flashing defiance.

All that morning the fight continued, with slight intervals for rest. Then they returned to it, each more determined than ever to defeat his rival. Young Black Buck soon showed signs of weakening, and his father noticing it, called out:

“Let them rest until another day! They have done enough today!”

“No! no!” shouted a dozen voices.

“The combat must go on!” replied Father Buck. “Not until they both ask for a rest can it stop.”

It was renewed with greater vigor. Growing weak by the strain, they fell more often to their knees. The crashing of horns in mighty blows could no longer be resisted so easily. They were longer in recovering from the blows, and slower in getting to their feet.

“Shall we put it off until another day?” asked Young Black Buck suddenly to his rival.

“No, it shall be settled today,” replied White Tail, breathing hard. “I can fight for weeks yet. I remember your lies about me, Young Black Buck. I recall your treachery in the woods! I think of how you lost me in Dismal Swamp so I might be disgraced! And now you shall be punished for them! I shall fight you until you can’t get up again!”

“That will never happen, White Tail! You can never do that!”

But this boast was hard to make good. Young Black Buck was showing weariness. Again and again he stumbled and fell to his knees. And each time White Tail sprang at him and delivered a series of mighty blows with his head.

Once Young Black Buck failed to get quickly back to his feet, and White Tail rushed him. With all the speed and power he could summon he delivered a crushing blow, and knocked his rival down until all four legs were doubled up under him.

White Tail stood over him. “Call me leader!” he snorted.

“Never!” grunted Young Black Buck, and tried to rise. White Tail knocked him flat again before he could rise.

“Call me leader!” he challenged again.

“Never!” came a fainter cry.

Again White Tail flattened him out, and issued the challenge the third time, and once more Young Black Buck refused.

Four times White Tail flattened him on the ground, and the fifth time Young Black Buck could not rise.

“Call me leader!”

There was no response. Young Black Buck was too weak to answer. White Tail stood over him. Three times Young Black Buck tried to rise, but fell back. He was too weak to respond to the challenge or to get to his feet. The battle was over! White Tail was victor!

“Who challenges my leadership now!” White Tail bellowed, glaring around. And none replied! Their very silence made him their choice. In the next story White Tail succeeds his father and becomes leader of the herd.

STORY XVI
WHITE TAIL MADE LEADER OF THE HERD

By defeating Young Black Buck in combat, White Tail was, according to the law of the herd, chosen leader until another should grow up and displace him. The decision on the battlefield could not be changed or altered. Even Black Buck and his son recognized this, and without protest they permitted Father Buck to complete the ceremony.

“The law of the herd has been vindicated,” he said, after White Tail had trotted around the vast circle, and challenged in vain any other antagonist. “White Tail shall henceforth be your leader. To him obedience shall be given, and any who refuses shall be driven into exile. If there is any opposition it must be stated now.”

Black Buck’s wicked eyes flashed angrily. He was doubly disappointed that his son had failed, for his own defeat years before came back to torment him. Young Black Buck was too exhausted to speak, and if there was any protest it had to come from his father.

“Young Black Buck have you anything to say?” continued Father Buck, turning to the defeated.

Young Black Buck shook his head wearily. There was no fight left in him.

“You promise to obey the new leader?”

Again the weary shaking of the head, followed by a sign as the vanquished dropped down and closed his eyes.

“And you, Black Buck of Dismal Swamp?”

“I will follow and obey the leader, as I followed and obeyed you, Father Buck,” was the answer. “There is nothing else for me to do. I submit to the law.”

Father Buck turned to White Tail, whose distended nostrils and flashing eyes indicated that he was still ready to fight for his honor. The eyes of father and son met an instant in an exchange of pride and happiness.

“It is well then,” continued the ex-leader. “White Tail shall henceforth be the head of the herd. I go back to my place among the older bucks to follow.”

A certain wistfulness crept into his voice and eyes. It was hard to yield the proud position, to hand over the burdens and glory of leader to another. None could do it without a certain amount of regret—not even though the successor was his own son.

“I have led you many, many seasons,” continued Father Buck, “and always with success. Puma and Timber have never raided the herd in my time. We have foiled and deceived them, finding new pasture fields where they could not come. We have been safe from Loup the Lynx and Sneaky the Gray Wolf. I have fought them both, holding them at bay with my mighty horns, and once I remember it was a hard fought, desperate battle with Sneaky. But before he could call his pack the herd had escaped, and I fled from him on the wind.”

He paused a moment, swinging his head proudly from side to side. “And our pasture fields have always been rich and sufficient,” he continued. “I have led you where the food was plentiful even in the depths of the winter. In snow and rain we have fared well. Our fawns and does have been safe. Not one has been lost through bad leadership. We have multiplied and grown strong. Today we stand first among the great herds of the timberland. May we continue to grow and thrive under our new leader.”

With his farewell address finished, Father Buck stepped from under the Council Tree, and White Tail, knowing that he was expected to assume control, trotted up to take his place. Some noticed that, as he passed Father Buck, he was taller and stronger in limb than the ex-leader. The tips of his antlers towered a full foot higher than those of Father Buck. Even his enemies noticed this, and were satisfied that he would prove a good leader.

“Father Buck has spoken well,” White Tail began, as he glanced proudly around at the herd. “His leadership has been successful, and I shall make it more so. If I fail you, may I fall in the chase and break my neck! If I show weakness or cowardice, may Puma or Timber Wolf pull me down and eat out my heart! If I show lack of wisdom and justice, may Loup the Lynx or Sneaky trip me, and devour me. I shall be your leader, and next to me—”

He stopped and glanced from one to another. He had the right to choose the one next to him in power, one who would lead the herd if he were sick or away.

“—and the next to me in authority,” he added, “comes Young Black Buck. I have no ill will for him. The past must be forgotten. All I ask from him is loyalty and support. The safety of the herd must always be his first thought. He must give his life, if necessary, to protect the does and fawns in my absence. Do you promise this, Young Black Buck?”

Surprised by this honor thrust so unexpectedly upon him, Young Black Buck opened his weary eyes, and jumped to his feet. He trotted into the circle, and once more held his head high.

“White Tail,” he began in a trembling voice, “I don’t deserve this, but if you ask it I shall accept. I pledge loyalty and friendship. I shall make it the law of my life to support your leadership and to do all I can for the herd. Is that enough?”

“It is all we can ask, Young Black Buck,” answered White Tail. “Now, under the Council Tree, we pledge ourselves to the service of the herd and to each other’s support. Let it be understood that when I am away, Young Black Buck shall be in command, and it is the duty of every one to follow and obey him. It is so agreed! The Council is now finished.”

The meeting immediately broke up, and the deer and bucks mingled together to congratulate the new leaders, for the council had ended happily, and there was no bitter feeling carried away. The older ones related to the young ones stories of other similar meetings under the Council Tree, and the latter listened eagerly to these tales.

Father Buck and Mother Deer withdrew silently, leaving White Tail in command, with the whole herd crowding around him to flatter and congratulate. There was a new spring in the ex-leader’s steps as he trotted away, and Mother Deer, walking along by his side, noticed it.

“You do not act like a fallen leader,” she said, smiling. “I haven’t seen you walk so lightly and happily for a long time.”

“A fallen leader is not always to be pitied, my dear,” Father Buck replied. “The greatest thing he can do is to lead his people successfully, and the next greatest thing is to rear a son to take his place. Have I not done both?”

Mother Deer nodded and smiled. Father Buck turned to her and affectionately licked her neck. “And the greatest thing you could do,” he added, “is to train your son so that he is worthy to lead. I’m proud of White Tail, and still prouder of you, Mother Deer. He is your son!”

A little later White Tail found them together in the woods, talking and smiling, and so happy in the possession of each other’s love that neither seemed to regret the loss of authority. And White Tail, watching them, said to himself:

“The honor of being leader of the herd is not all mine. I owe much of it to them. They have trained me and taught me, and suffered for me, that I might succeed. I shall never forget that.”

And to the end of his days, which were many, White Tail never forgot that to have good parents was greater even than to be leader of the herd.

The next story in the Twilight Series is entitled: Washer the Raccoon.

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Bumper the White Rabbit

STORY I

WHERE BUMPER CAME FROM

There was once an old woman who had so many rabbits that she hardly knew what to do. They ate her out of house and home, and kept the cupboard so bare she often had to go to bed hungry. But none of the rabbits suffered this way. They all had their supper, and their breakfast, too, even if there wasn’t a crust left in the old woman’s cupboard.

There were big rabbits and little rabbits; lean ones and fat ones; comical little youngsters who played pranks upon their elders, and staid, serious old ones who never laughed or smiled the livelong day; boy rabbits and girl rabbits, mother rabbits and father rabbits, and goodness knows how many aunts, uncles, nephews, nieces, cousins, second cousins and distant relatives-in-law! They all lived under one big roof in the

The continuation of this interesting story will be found in

BUMPER THE WHITE RABBIT
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BUSTER THE BIG BROWN
BEAR

STORY I

WHEN BUSTER WAS A CUB

In the North Woods where Buster was born, a wide river tinkles merrily over stones that are so white you’d mistake them for snowballs, if you were not careful, and begin pelting each other with them. The birches hanging over the water look like white sticks of peppermint candy, except in the spring of the year when they blossom out in green leaves, and then they make you think of fairyland where everything is painted the colors of the rainbow.

The rocks that slope up from the bank of the river are dented and broken as if some giant in the past had smashed them with his hammer, cracking some and punching deep holes in others. It was in one of these holes, or caves, that Buster was born.

He didn’t mind the hard rocky floor of his bed a bit, nor did he mind the darkness, nor the cold winds that swept through the open doorway. He was so well protected by his

The continuation of this interesting story will be found in

BUSTER THE BIG BROWN BEAR
Price 65 Cents Postpaid

THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY, Publishers
517 S. Wabash Ave. Winston Building 129 Spadina Ave.
CHICAGO, ILL. PHILADELPHIA, PA. TORONTO, ONT.

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TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES

1. Changed “more Black Buck” to “more Young Black Buck” on p. 126. 2. Silently corrected typographical errors. 3. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. 4. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_.