A Little Dapple Fool 81 



The wind was blowing the scent of the hid- 

 den fawn in the treetop straight away from 

 her, but it blew the strong body scent of the 

 cat full in the fawn's widely extended nos- 

 trils. He had never smelled anything like it 

 before and some wild instinct told him that it 

 was a fearful scent, fraught with danger. 



A strong impulse was on him to bell wildly 

 for his mother, whom he felt sure would come 

 running and drive away this fearful prowler. 

 But silence had been one of the lessons his 

 wild mother had enjoined, so he stifled his 

 terror and lay with tense, quivering muscles, 

 while the great cat drew nearer and nearer. 



At last, the hunting wildcat crept to within 

 ten paces of the treetop and stood watching 

 and listening, testing the wind, with all her 

 nerves intent upon discovering game. She 

 had not even scented the fawn as the wind, 

 which was strong, blew directly away from 

 her, but she had noticed deer signs and knew 

 that a doe had been that way this morning. 



The fawn staring wide-eyed through his 

 chink in the foliage lay as still as death, but 



