The taste recalled to the mind of the fawn a long forgotten impression. His rough tongue caressed the handle, then he looked up, vaguely troubled. The Hermit, seeing the deer and hoping that it was his old friend, called Pal to heel and advanced slowly with outstretched hand. Brown Brother trembled but stood his ground. It is impossible to say whether or not the old association would have held him, for while the Hermit was yet several yards away, a hoarse warning sounded from the darkness beyond the fence. The sound seemed to release a spring, for instantly the fawn bounded away, his white flag raised, and joined the others in the safety of the wilderness. Providence was kind to the buck and his family and in spite of their many enemies late autumn found them still together. Through October, the hunters' month, when the law permits the shooting of males, they all grew exceedingly wary. The sound of a gun in the still forest would send them fleeing swiftly and tirelessly toward the denser coverts to the north. Now Brown Brother heard the whining of the wind among the branches and he would pause to look up wonderingly at their swaying tops. Woodchucks, so fat from their summer feeding that it seemed as if their coats must split, were locating their winter homes where they might sleep comfortably during the cold months. Often during the night a wedge of flying geese went honking over the forest, driven south by Arctic gales. The first snow came drifting down like white feathers from some giant flock of birds, falling softly among the spruce and hemlock and covering the wilderness with a carpet that left a tell-tale record of every foot which crossed its smooth expanse. And as the face of the wilderness changed, its inhabitants, also, changed. Some went into hiding for the cold months; others, fierce beasts such as the wolf and wildcat, simply donned warmer coats; still others, notably the hare and the ptarmigan, weaker and therefore in greater danger during the months of famine, put on coats of white which made them almost indistinguishable against the snowy background of the forest. The snow found the herd of deer, under command of the big buck, heading northward to the country of evergreens. Here, deep in a balsam swamp, the winter "yard" was made, a labyrinth of intersecting paths leading to the best food supplies and providing safety and shelter for the deer. The fragrant balsam tips made excellent feeding and, by scraping away the snow, the herd found plenty of moss and lichens for browsing. Here they were quartered safe from all enemies, for though the deer were familiar with the winding paths, an enemy soon became bewildered in their many ramifications and was glad to get out alive without its dinner.