till they were only at a little
distance from him, and the man pulled up and, pointing to him, said
very low, "Look." And the girl whispered, "What a little duck! I wish
I could take him home with me." But the man said, "No, no, no. His
mother will come and take him home presently, and the sooner we leave
him alone the better she will be pleased." So they rode away, and he
could hear them talking as they rode, for they seemed to have a great
deal to say to each other. But what they talked about, and how they
came to stay alone on the hill when the hounds were running down in
the valley, is more than I can tell you.

Before very long his mother came back to him, and you may guess how
glad he was to see her, and how she rejoiced to see him. After looking
round to see that all was quiet, she led him away over the heather,
and then down a very steep hill-side among stunted gorse and loose
stones, hot and burning from the sun. "See, my son," she said, "this
is the first time that you have been chased by hounds, but I fear that
it may not be the last. Now, remember, no hound can run fast over this
short gorse, for his feet are soft; while we do not mind it, for our
feet are hard. And these loose stones are almost better for us than
the gorse, for our scent hardly lies on them and they hurt a hound's
feet almost as much as the gorse." So they went to the bottom of the
hill, and there was a peat-stream singing its song; but all that the
Calf could hear of it was this:--

_I carry no scent, come here, come here;_
_I am the friend of the wild Red-Deer._

The Hind led him up a shallow for a little way, and then she jumped
out on to the opposite bank and followed it upwards for a little way,
and then she jumped into the water again and went down for a full
hundred yards till they came to a comfortable shady spot, where they
both left the water and lay down together. "Now, my son," she said,
"here is another little lesson for you to learn. The song of the water
is true; it carries no scent, and no hound can follow us in it unless
he can see us. But a hound will always try the bank to find out where
we have left the water; if we enter it up the stream he will try
upward, and if we enter it down the stream he will try downward. So
always, if you have time, try to make them work upward when you mean
to go down, and downward when you mean to go up, as I have shown you
to-day." And like a wise little fellow he took care to rem