Then something happened which startled him. The spring had not been as powerful as he thought, for instead of beating White Tail’s mark, or reaching his own, Father Buck missed the shore by a foot. His hind legs actually splashed in the water.

“What happened?” exclaimed White Tail in amazement. “Did you slip, or—or—”

“No,” replied Father Buck sadly, “it was as I expected. I am getting old, White Tail, and have lost my spring. I have reached the age where I am no longer qualified to lead the herd. If any of the other bucks knew this they would instantly demand a new leader. It’s the law of the herd.”

“But—but—” stammered White Tail. “You could do it again. You didn’t get a good start.”

“No, it wasn’t that, White Tail. It was my age. I can no longer spring across Stepping Stone brook. I am not fit to be leader of the herd.”

Father Buck’s proud head drooped, and something like a tear gleamed in his eyes. It was hard to acknowledge that he was failing, and that in a few seasons he would be looked upon as a useless old buck who would have to 19take orders from another much younger than he. But it was the law of the herd—and the law of life.

“I can’t believe it!” exclaimed White Tail. “I won’t believe it! I know you can leap across the brook. You must try it again. What I can do you can do!”

Father Buck raised his head and smiled. All the sadness left his eyes, and pride and gratefulness took its place.

“No, White Tail,” he replied. “I cannot do it. I put in that