The wild voice sounded again and again, so insistently, so appealingly that the Child became greatly excited over it.

The sound was something between the bleat of an extraordinary, harsh-voiced kid and the scream of a badly frightened mirganser, but more penetrating and more strident than either.
"Oh, it's frightened, Uncle Andy!" exclaimed the Child.

"What do you think it is?
What does it want?
Let's go and see if we can't help it!" The pipe was drawing all right now, because Uncle Andy had made up his mind.
"It's nothing but a young fawn--a baby deer," he answered.

"Evidently it has got lost, and it's crying for its mother.

With a voice like that it ought to make her hear if she's anywhere alive--if a bear has not jumped on her and broken her neck for her.