k.
"Beautiful!" I cried, as the light fell on the brown mold and flecked it
with white and yellow. The sunbeam went away again, but seemed to leave
its brightness behind it; for there were still the gold-brown mold
under the roots and the flecks of white and yellow. I stooped down to
see it better; I reached in my hand--then the brown mold changed
suddenly to softest fur; the glintings of white and yellow were the
dappled sides of two little fawns, lying there very still and
frightened, just where their mother had hidden them when she went away.

They were but a few days old when I found them. Each had on his little
Joseph's coat; and each, I think, must have had also a magic cloak
somewhere about him; for he had only to lie down anywhere to become
invisible. The curious markings, like the play of light and shadow
through the leaves, hid the little owners perfectly so long as they held
themselves still and let the sunbeams dance over them. Their beautiful
heads were a study for an artist,--delicate, graceful, exquisitely
colored. And their great soft eyes had a questioning innocence, as they
met yours, which went straight to your heart and made you claim the
beautiful creatures for your own instantly. Indeed, there is nothing in
all the woods that so takes your heart by storm as the face of a little
fawn.

They were timid at first, lying close without motion of any kind. The
instinct of obedience--the first and strongest instinct of every
creature born into this world--kept them loyal to the mother's command
to stay where they were and be still till she came back. So even after
the hemlock curtain was brushed aside, and my eyes saw and my hand
touched them, they kept their heads flat to the ground and pretended
that they were only parts of the brown forest floor, and that the spots
on their bright coats were but flecks of summer sunshine.

I felt then that I was an intruder; that I ought to go straight away and
leave them; but the little things were too beautiful, lying there in
their wonderful old den, with fear and wonder and questionings dancing
in their soft eyes as they turned them back at me like a mischievous
child playing peekaboo. It is a tribute to our higher nature that one
cannot see a beautiful thing anywhere without wanting to draw near, to
see, to touch, to possess it. And here was beauty such as one rarely
finds, and, though I was an intruder, I could not go away.

The hand that touched the little wi