“The trouble is,” said the Boy, “she probably has a mother somewhere, and then she’s a wild thing. She’d never be really happy with the cows. I suppose the doe just managed to save the other fawn. Aren’t there always two?” “You think her mother got away then?” asked the Girl. “Well I don’t know,” returned the Boy, gazing searchingly across the River through the charred tree trunks. Here the ground still smoked yellowly as the fire ate into the damp leaves of the nether layer of the forest floor. Red embers glowed where the flames had raged through the underbrush. Now, as it happened, the Doe was searching despairingly that very moment for her Fawn. She had made her escape in good season with the larger fawn, but Fleet Foot she had missed from her side when it was too late to return, and a wall of flame had risen between her and her little one. The lost Fawn had raced, with the other Wood Folk, on before the flames to the River’s brink, where the children had found her. Meantime her mother had circled clear around the fire with her remaining little one, trotting up-stream until she came to a narrow part where her fawn could cross, peering and searching everywhere for Fleet Foot. Now suddenly the children heard a dainty stamp and a shrill whistled “H-e-e-e-yew, he-u!” And over a copse of hazel bushes peered a red-brown doe, who instantly turned and leaped out of sight, tail raised like a little white flag behind to show the fawn which way to follow. And “He-w!” said Fleet Foot, with a tiny stamp, and followed. And Twinkly Eyes, the bear cub, took it all in, from the hiding of his tree-top. [Illustration: [Bear]] LV TWINKLY EYES GOES HOUSE-HUNTING Betty Bluebird, like most of the other feathered folk, was beginning to think of starting south. For the wild ducks honking overhead told her it was going to be a cold winter and advised her to start without delay. Twinkly Eyes also heard the warning. And it set him restlessly searching about for a snug den in which to pass the winter. For Twinkly Eyes was going to hi-ber-nate. With the first snow-fall he would cuddle up in the depth of some cave and pull the dead leaves after him, and tuck himself in bed for a sleep that would last until spring. Every day now he rose with the dawn to begin his search. And every night he kept up till black darkness made it im-pos-sible to see. But with all his searching, Twinkly Eyes never once ceased to eat everything good he came to. No, indeed, Twinkly Eyes was not the bear to stop eating just because he was busy house-hunting. Not a bit of it! In fact, if anything he ate more. Though he cut himself down to one meal, that one meal lasted from the moment he awoke in the morning to the moment he dropped to sleep in the chill of the autumn night.