He had just seen Mr. and Mrs. Quack start toward the Big River for a brief visit before leaving on their long , difficult journey to the far-away Southland . Farewells are always rather sad , and this particular farewell had left Peter with a lump in his throat , -- a queer , choky feeling . `` If I were sure that they would return next spring , it would n't be so bad , '' he muttered . `` It 's those terrible guns . I know what it is to have to watch out for them . Farmer Brown 's boy used to hunt me with one of them , but he does n't any more . But even when he did hunt me it was n't anything like what the Ducks have to go through . If I kept my eyes and ears open , I could tell when a hunter was coming and could hide in a hole if I wanted to . I never had to worry about my meals . But with the Ducks it is a thousand times worse . They 've got to eat while making that long journey , and they can eat only where there is the right kind of food . Hunters with terrible guns know where those places are and hide there until the Ducks come , and the Ducks have no way of knowing whether the hunters are waiting for them or not . That is n't hunting . It 's -- it 's -- '' `` Well , what is it ? What are you talking to yourself about , Peter Rabbit ? '' Peter looked up with a start to find the soft , beautiful eyes of Lightfoot the Deer gazing down at him over the top of a little hemlock tree . `` It 's awful , '' declared Peter . `` It 's worse than unfair . It does n't give them any chance at all . '' `` I suppose it must be so if you say so , '' replied Lightfoot , `` but you might tell me what all this awfulness is about . ''
XXXXX grinned .
Deer Ducks Farewells Peter Rabbit River Southland choky hemlock right