Just how or why the Anteater became so friendly with the hunter, no one in the forest knew; but some day the truth will be known, doubtless.
At any rate, the poor doe arrived at the house where the Anteater lived.
“Tan! Tan! Tan!” she knocked, panting.
“Who’s that?” answered the Anteater sleepily.
“It’s me!” said the doe; though she corrected herself almost immediately, and said: “It is I—a deer, the mother of the twins!”
“I see,” said the Anteater. “So it’s you! Well, what do you want?”
“I want you to introduce me to the hunter. The fawn, my daughter, is blind!”
“You don’t say so? That little fawn that everybody makes so much of? She’s a dear little thing! I don’t have to be asked twice to do a favor when that child is concerned! I’ll introduce you gladly. But you won’t need a letter. Just show the man this, and he’ll do all you ask.”
The Anteater rummaged around in the leaves for a while and at last stretched his tail out. On the tip of it was the head of a snake, completely dried, and with the poison fangs still in it.
“Thanks ever so much,” exclaimed the doe. “But that man is a venison hunter! Do you think this is all I need?”