ALONG FOUR-FOOTED TRAILS 



where the surroundings are near their own 

 color. 



Toward night the doe returned to the fawns 

 and gave them their supper. Thus she fed 

 them for several days, leading them farther away 

 each time. I would conceal myself some dis- 

 tance from the fawns and lay in wait for the 

 mother-doe to come and nurse her children. 

 One morning I was surprised to see her lead 

 them along the divide. I watched them with 

 thrilling interest as I lay on the ground in the 

 grass on a high elevation that commanded a 

 good view for some distance in all directions. 



The fawns ran beside their devoted foster- 

 mother at a surprisingly rapid gait. Their weak 

 legs of but a few days past were now strong and 

 steady. I was certain of knowing the doe if I 

 should have the good fortune to meet her again 

 at close range. Her right ear was split and a 

 piece torn off. I could imagine a fight with 

 her deadly foe, the coyote, in which he had torn 

 the flap off her ear as she bravely defended her 

 little ones from his cruel jaws. 



During all this time I lay conjuring up this 

 tragedy until I was sure it could have happened 

 4*] 



