Then the huntsman stole after it as far as the little house, and heard it call out, ‘My sister dear, open; I’m here,’ and he saw the door open and close immediately the fawn had run in.
The huntsman remembered all this carefully, and went off straight to the King and told him all he had seen and heard.
‘To-morrow we will hunt again,’ said the King.
Poor sister was terribly frightened when she saw how her little Fawn had been wounded. She washed off the blood, bound up the injured foot with herbs, and said: ‘Now, dear, go and lie down and rest, so that your wound may heal.’
The wound was really so slight that it was quite well next day, and the little Roe did not feel it at all. No sooner did it hear the sounds of hunting in the forest than it cried:
‘I can’t stand this, I must be there too; I’ll take care they shan’t catch me.’
Sister began to cry, and said, ‘They are certain to kill you, and then I shall be left all alone in the forest and forsaken by everyone. I can’t and won’t let you out.’
‘Then I shall die of grief,’ replied the Roe, ‘for when I hear that horn I feel as if I must jump right out of my skin.’
So at last, when sister found there was nothing else to be done, she opened the door with a heavy heart, and the Roe darted forth full of glee and health into the forest.
As soon as the King saw the Roe, he said to his huntsman, ‘Now then, give chase to it all day till evening, but mind and be careful not to hurt it.’