“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 knew that the hunter was getting farther and farther away.

Paddy the Beaver swam out from his hiding-place and climbed out on the bank near Lightfoot.  There was a twinkle in his eyes.  “That blue-coated mischief-maker isn’t such a bad fellow at heart, after all, is he?” said he.

Lightfoot lifted his beautiful head and set his ears forward to catch the sound of Sammy’s voice in the distance.

“Sammy Jay may be a mischief-maker, as some people say,” said he, “but you can always count on him to prove a true friend in time of danger.  He brought me warning of the coming of the hunter the other morning.  You saw him save Mr. and Mrs. Quack a little while ago, and then he actually drove that hunter away.  I suppose Sammy Jay has saved more lives than any one I know of.  I wish he would come back here and let me thank him.”