had been born in the
second week in May; and a birthday in the second week in May is the
greatest event that can occur in a Red-Deer's family.

The first thing that he remembered was that he found himself lying
very snug and warm in a patch of fern, with the most beautiful pair of
brown eyes that ever were seen gazing straight down upon him. And
soon he was aware that they were the eyes of the Hind his mother, that
they followed him whereever he went, and watched over him whatever he
did, and that, whatever he might want, she was there to provide it for
him. She always had a cosy bed ready for him in grass or fern; she
washed him clean and brushed his little coat with her tongue every
morning; and she taught him but two lessons--to lie as still as a
mouse, and to do just as he was bid. For every morning before dawn she
had to go afield to feed herself, farther than the little Calf could
travel with her; and as she had no nurse to leave in charge of him,
she just tucked him up as closely as she could, and told him to lie
still till she came back. And like a good little fellow he obeyed her;
which was well for him, for if he had taken it into his head to jump
up and look about him, some evil man or beast might have seen him and
made away with him; and then this story would never have been written.

Always just before the sun rose she came back, and every day she
seemed to love him better, and every day he felt that she was more
than the whole world to him. And morning after morning up rose the
blessed sun, and drove the mist away, and sent a little ray forward
through the fern to kiss him and bid him good-morrow. And the mist
left a drop on every blade and blossom, and said, "Good-bye, my little
fellow; I shall come back again this evening;" and the drops nodded
and sparkled and twinkled, and kept whispering, "Yes, coming back this
evening," over and over again, till the sun said that he could stand
it no longer and was obliged to dry them all up. Then rose a hum of
many wings as the flies woke up, and went out for their day's work;
but the breeze moved like a sentry over the bed of the little Calf and
said to them, "Move on, move on; this little Calf must not be
disturbed;" and they dared not disobey, for they knew that, if they
did, he was certain sooner or later to send for his big brother, the
Westerly Gale, who would blow them away with a vengeance. And all
through the day the breeze kept singing through the gracefu