The Red Doe raised her slim neck with an effort, and peered over the tall brakes, and then out of the shadows, with little, eager bounds of joy, came her fawn. At last he had grown tall enough to leap the hateful pen, and all the subdued wildness of his nature had come back again with the return of spring, and guided by its instinct, the fawn had sought and found the old camp and his mother.
There they stayed together in their fern bed until morning, and comforted and rested, almost well of her wounds, the doe was able to travel once more. And so, just as the hermit thrush and bluebird started their morning chorus, the Red Doe and her fawn bounded off together, seeking new pastures in the secret places of the forest.
