The deer's daughter--she must have been his daughter--had lots and lots of chances to run away, but she didn't do it.

She just stood there like the poor, timid, scared thing she was, with every quiver of her graceful body, every look of her big, brown, childlike eyes saying, "Please, why did you kill my father, who was my only protector?
And please, please don't hurt me!" Did you, Mr.or Miss Reader, ever have a helpless animal look at you in that way?
If you did, you know it's awful--awful to remember! Whitey fired.

He couldn't miss at that distance.

And he ran forward to force Miss Deer to fall on the bank, clear of the water, which she did.
She looked at Whitey while he was shoving her over, Whitey nor no one else can ever describe that look, and Whitey, boy as he was, turned away his head as she fell.

Injun stood by dripping, silent, his face a mask for his feelings.