that it became a great favorite, following the different
members of the family about, caressed by the neighbors,
and welcome everywhere. One morning, after gamboling
about as usual until weary, it threw itself down in
the sunshine, at the feet of one of its friends, upon
the steps of a store. There came along a countryman,
who for several years had been a hunter by pursuit,
and who kept several dogs: one of his hounds
came to the village with him on this occasion.
The dog, as it approached the spot where the fawn lay,
suddenly stopped; the little animal saw him, and started
to its feet. It had lived more than half its
life among the village, and had apparently lost all
fear of them; but it seemed now to know instinctly
that an enemy was at hand. In an instant a change
came over it, and the gentleman who related the incident,
and who was standing by at the moment, observed that
he had never in his life seen a finer sight than the
sudden arousing of instinct in that beautiful creature.
In a second its whole character and appearance seemed
changed, all its past habits were forgotten, every
wild impulse was awake; its head erect, its nostrils
dilated, its eye flashing. In another instant,
before the spectators had thought of the danger, before
its friends could secure it, the fawn was leaping
wildly through the street, and the hound in full pursuit.
The bystanders were eager to save it; several persons
instantly followed its track, the friends who had long
fed and fondled it, calling the name it had hitherto
known, but in vain. The hunter endeavored to
whistle back his dog, but with no better success.
In half a minute the fawn had turned the first corner,
dashed onward toward the lake, and thrown itself into
the water. But, if for a moment the startled
creature believed itself safe in the cool bosom of
the lake, it was soon undeceived; the hound followed
in hot and eager chase, while a dozen of the village
dogs joined blindly in the pursuit. Quite a crowd
collected on the bank, men, women, and children, anxious
for the fate of the little animal known to them all:
some threw themselves into boats, hoping to intercept
the hound before he reached his prey; but the plashing
of the oars, the eager voices of the men and boys,
and the barking of the dogs, must have filled the
beating heart of the poor fawn with terror and anguish,
as though every creature on the spot where it had
once been caressed and fondled had suddenly turned
into a deadly foe. It was soon seen that the
little animal was directing its course across a bay
toward the nearest borders of the forest, and immediately
the owner of the hound crossed the bridge, running
at full speed in the same direction, hoping to stop
his dog as he landed. On the fawn swam, as it
never swam before, its delicate head scarcely seen
above the water, but leaving a disturbed track, which
betrayed its course alike to anxious friends and fierce
enemies. As it approached the land, the exciting
interest became intense. The hunter was already