THE BLIND DOE
Once upon a time there was a deer--a doe--who gave birth to two littledeers; and, as is very rare with such animals, the little deers weretwins. However, a wildcat ate one of them; and the second, a female, hadto live her childhood without a playmate.
She was such a beautiful little creature, nevertheless, that all themother deers in the forest wished she belonged to them; and to showtheir affection they were always nipping gently at her ribs with theirlips.
Every morning when the little deer got up out of bed, her mother wouldmake her say the catechism which all deers learn when they are babies:
I. I must smell of each green leaf before I eat it; because some greenleaves are poisonous.
II. I must stop and look carefully up and down the brook before I lowermy head to drink; for otherwise an alligator may eat me.
III. I must lift my head every half hour and sniff carefully in alldirections; otherwise a panther may steal up and catch me.
IV. I must look ahead of me when I am grazing in a meadow; otherwise asnake may bite me.
All good fawns learn this catechism by heart; and when this little deercould say it all by herself, her mother began to let her go away fromhome alone.
One afternoon in summer, when the fawn was wandering over the mountainside looking for the tenderest tufts of grass, she saw a tree with ahollow trunk in front of her. Inside it a number of small slate-coloredbags were hanging.
"What in the world is that?" said the little deer to herself. She hadnever seen anything of just that kind! Now deers, like people, areinclined to be a bit disrespectful towards things they don't understand.Those puffy slate-colored bags seemed to her about the most ridiculousthings there was on earth! So she butted them with all her might.
She now saw that she had made a great dent in the bags, which began todrip with drops of shining fluid. At the same time a swarm of reddishflies, with narrow waists, came out, buzzing around and walking about,over their broken nest.
The little deer edged nearer. Curiously, those red flies did not seem tomind at all! And what about that juicy-looking stuff? Carefully, gently,the fawn stretched out her head till she was able to touch one of thedrops of fluid with the tip of her tongue.
What a surprise, what a wonderful surprise, for such a little, and suchan inexperienced deer! She smacked her lips and licked her nose with hertongue, hurrying to lap up all the drops she could find. For they werehoney, honey of the sweetest kind. And the red flies were bees! They didnot sting because they had no stingers! There are bees like that, youknow, in South America.
Not content with the few drops that were slowly oozing out of the cracksin the bags, the little deer now broke all the nests down and ate everybit of the honey in them; then, leaping and jumping with pride anddelight, she hurried home to tell her mother all about it.
But the mother deer frowned severely:
"Look out for bees' nests, my child!" she exclaimed earnestly. "Honey isvery good to eat; but it is dangerous to get at it. Keep away from allthe nests you see!"
"But bees don't sting, mamma!" the little deer objected gleefully."Hornets sting, and wasps sting; but bees, no!"
"That isn't so, my dear!" the mother answered. "You had good luck,that's all. Bees are quite as bad as wasps. Now mind me, child, or someday you'll be sorry."
"All right, mamma, I'll be careful," said the little deer.
But the first thing she did the very next morning was to take one of thepaths that people had made over the mountains. She had figured out that,running along in the open, she could cover more ground and see the bees'nests better!
And at last the search of the little deer was successful. She came upona nest of bees--as she thought--black ones this time, with yellow sashesabout their belts; and many of them were walking over the outside of thenest. The nest, also, was of a different color, and much larger than thebags the little deer had found the day before. But such things made nodifference to her. "If the nest is larger," she concluded simply, "thehoney is probably sweeter and there's more of it!"
But then she suddenly remembered all that her mother had said. "Oh,mother is too afraid! All mothers are too afraid!" And she finished bygiving a lusty butt at the nest.
In a second or two she had bitterly repented of her folly. The "bees"were ordinary bees and there were thousands of them. They rushed forthfrom the nest in a great swarm, settled all over the head, neck, andshoulders of the little deer, and even under her belly and on her tail.And they stung her all over, but worst of all about the eyes. There weremore than ten stings to each eye!
The little deer, wild with pain and fright, began to run screaming away.She ran and ran. But finally she had to stop, because she could nolonger see where she was going. Her eyes were all swollen; so swollenshe could not open them. Trembling with fear and smarting with pain, shestopped where she was and began to cry piteously:
"Mamma!... Mamma!"
The mother deer was much worried when the afternoon wore on and herchild did not come home; and at last she started out to look for her,following by smell, as deers can, the tracks of her little one over thehillsides. What was her despair when, finally, she heard the disobedientfawn weeping in the distance; and how much blacker her despair becamewhen she found that the child was blind!
Slowly the two deers started home again, the fawn's nose resting on hermother's hip. And along the road all the old bucks and does came up toexamine the little one's eyes and give their opinions as to a cure. Themother deer did not know what to do. She had no plasters nor poulticesto soothe the pain in her child's eyes. She learned ultimately thatacross the mountains lived a man who was skillful with remedies. Thisman was a hunter, and traded in venison. But, from all reports, sheconcluded that he was quite a kind-hearted person.
Though the doe shivered at the thought of visiting a man who made hisliving on the slaughter of deer, she was willing to risk anything forher offspring. However, she had never met the man personally, and shethought it best to ask for a letter of introduction from the Anteater,who was supposed to be on very good terms with all the human kind.
It was night; and the panthers and wildcats were rampant through all theforest; but the mother deer did not wait an instant. She covered herlittle one carefully with branches so that no one could find her, andthen made off toward the Anteater's house. She went so fast and so farthat she was faint with fatigue when she arrived there; and once, on theroad, she escaped only by merest chance from the fangs of a mountainlion.
The Anteater was one of the smaller members of his tribe--a yellowlittle fellow with a black cape thrown over his shoulders and reachingdown to the waist, where it was tied under his belly with black strings.
Just how or why the Anteater became so friendly with the hunter, no onein 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 almostimmediately, 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, isblind!"
"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 favorwhen that child is concerned! I'll introduce you gladly. But you won'tneed 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 laststretched 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 venisonhunter! Do you think this is all I need?"
"Quite!" the Anteater averred.
"You are a very kind-
hearted Anteater," the doe replied, her eyesfilling with tears. But she did not prolong the conversation. It wasgetting to be very late, and she had to be at the hunter's lodge bydaybreak.
She hurried back to her house and got the fawn, who still lay thereweeping in her bed. Together they made their way toward the villagewhere the hunter lived. They stole along very softly, keeping close tothe walls of the houses, so that the dogs would not see nor hear them.
At the door of the hunter's cottage the mother knocked loudly:
"Tan! Tan! Tan!"
And the little deer knocked as loudly as she could.
"Ta! Ta! Ta!"
"Who's there?" a voice called from within.
"It's us," said the fawn.
"It's we," corrected the mother. "We are friends of the Anteater, and wehave the snake's head!"
"I see," said the hunter opening the door. "What can I do for you?"
"My daughter, this little fawn here, is blind. Can you help her?"
And the mother deer told the whole story about her child and the bees.
"Hum!" said the man. "Just let me see what ails this nice young lady!"
Reentering the cottage, the hunter soon came back with a rather highstool, on which he set the fawn in such a manner that he could examineher eyes without bending over. Then he took out a big lens and began tolook at the stings, while the mother deer stood by, holding a lanternaround her neck so that the "doctor" could see better. For the sun hadnot yet risen.
"Oh, there's nothing to worry about," the hunter said to the fondparent, helping her little one out of the chair. "It's only a matter oftime and care. Wrap her head up, and keep a bandage with this ointmentacross her eyes. Then keep her in the dark for twenty days. After that,have her wear these yellow glasses for a week or two; and by that timeshe will be all right."
"Thanks, many, many thanks," said the mother deer warmly and gratefully."And now, sir, how much do I owe you?"
"Nothing at all, nothing at all, madam," the hunter replied with asmile. "But one thing more: look out for the dogs in the next house. Aman lives there who keeps hounds especially for chasing deer."
At this news the mother deer and her child were so scared they hardlydared breathe; and as they went away they walked on tiptoe, and stoppedevery few feet. Even at that the dogs heard them and gave chase fornearly a mile into the forest. But the mother deer found a narrow path,opening into the bush where the blind fawn could run quite safely; andthey made good their escape.
The little deer got well, just as the hunter had said she would; thoughthe care and trouble it cost the mother to keep her fawn shut up fortwenty long days inside a hollow tree, she only knew. Inside there youcould not have seen your hand before your face! But at last, onemorning, the mother deer brushed aside the branches she had woven acrossthe hole in the tree so tightly as to keep out all light; and the fawn,now with the yellow glasses on her nose, came out into the broad day.
"Oh, I can see now, mamma, I can see all right!"
And the mother deer, to tell the truth, had to go and hide her head in aclump of bushes to conceal the tears of joy that came to her eyes whenshe saw her little one cured at last. In two weeks, the glasses werelaid aside.
As time wore on, the fawn, though happy to be quite herself again, beganto grow sad. She was anxious to repay the hunter for his kindness toher; and she could think of no possible way of doing it.
One day, however, an idea occurred to her. As she was trotting along theshore of a pond she came upon a feather which a blue heron had let fallthere. "I wonder if that good man would like it?" she thought. And shepicked it up.
Then, one night when it was raining hard and the dogs would probably beunder cover, she started out for the hunter's cottage.
The man was reading in his bedroom, feeling quite cozy besides, for hehad just completed a thatched roof for his cabin when the rain began.Now he was quite safe and dry out of reach of the storm.
"Tan! Tan! Tan!"
When he opened the door, the little deer, whom he had treated and ofwhom he had often thought since then, was standing there in the rain,with the heron's plume, all wet and drooping, in her mouth.
"Here is something I have brought for you," the fawn explained.
But the hunter began to laugh.
The little deer went off home in great shame and sorrow. She thought theman had laughed in ridicule of her poor gift! So thereafter she wentlooking for a better, bigger feather to give her benefactor; and thistime she found some plumes that were truly splendid ones; and she wascareful to keep them clean and dry.
Again she went back, one night, to the hunter's cabin; and this time hedid not laugh. He was a courteous, polite man; and he understood that,the other time, he had hurt his little friend's feelings by laughing ather. Instead, he now invited her indoors, drew the high chair up to thetable and gave her a saucerful of honey. Gobble, gobble! The little deerlapped the sweet up in mad delight.
From that time on, the two became great friends. The fawn spent a greatdeal of her time collecting heron plumes, which the man sold for a largesum of money. And every time she came in with a feather, the hunter gaveher a jar of honey; and occasionally he offered her a cigar, which thelittle deer ate, but, of course, did not smoke. Smoking is bad even fordeers.
Whole nights the two friends thus spent together, talking in front ofthe open fire, while the wind was howling outside; for the deer made hervisits only in stormy weather when dogs would be sure not to be about.In a short time whenever the skies were dark and gave promise of a badnight, the hunter began to expect these visits. He would light a lamp,set a jar of honey on the table, take out a book and begin to read,waiting for the "Tan! Tan! Tan!" of the little deer, who remained hisloyal friend all her life.