So they walked on together through the wood, Alice with her arms clasped lovingly
round the soft neck of the Fawn, till they came out into another open field, and here
the Fawn gave a sudden bound into the air, and shook itself free from Alice's arms.
"I'm a Fawn!" it cried out in a voice of delight. "And dear me, you're a human child!"
A sudden look of alarm came into its beautiful brown eyes,
and in another moment it had darted away at full speed.
Lewis Carroll, Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland / Through the Looking-Glass
It was an early morning in mid-July and Dyani rested, curled up into a ball, within a cavity between the roots of a bicentennial live oak. The old tree was an ideal home for the white-tailed deer, for it provided him with both shelter and camouflage: Dyani’s brownish coat and the white spots that covered it resembled a pile of dead leaves illuminated by the sunlight, and the combination of shapes and colors rendered him nearly invisible.
Dyani had been left alone for two days as his mother, a mature doe, foraged in the forest, seeking food for Dyani and his twin sister, who rested beneath another tree some distance away. His mother’s prolonged absence was not unusual; in the meantime, Dyani could dine on new leaves from the low branches of the oak while awaiting the more substantial meal of fresh milk that his mother would provide when she returned. Thus, Dyani was set to wait a bit longer before getting too hungry or becoming disquieted.
The serenity of the morning was suddenly interrupted by a series of bright flashes in the sky and discordant sounds in the distance that appeared to be coming closer to Dyani’s refuge. Startled, the deer shuddered and prepared to get up and run and, if necessary, leap away. “What is going on? Is there some danger nearby? Is it approaching?” ran the thoughts of his simple mind. In a slow, gravelly sound, the tree’s leaves whispered back: “It is those vexing two-legged creatures. Not content with devastating the plains with their quarrels, they seem to be bringing their noise and destruction into these woods as well.”
Over the first month of his young life, Dyani had developed a bond with the oak and they often engaged in wordless conversations that were a source of merriment to both. The tree envied the energy and mobility of the rootless creature; the fawn never ceased to admire the vast knowledge of the universe evidenced by the pronouncements of the old tree. They were two vastly different species, linked by a common bond of innocence and the love for the natural world they shared.
“Am I in danger?” thought the fawn. The oak’s leaves rustled in a vegetable approximation of a shudder. “Who knows? They lay waste upon everything they touch. If they come near, you best move further away, out of their reach. Alas, I do not have the ability to escape.”
“Will you be able to warn me if they start getting close?”
The oak’s answer was non-committal: “Depends on how fast they move. I can detect if they are coming towards us by the vibrations of the soil around my roots and the unnatural substances they release into the air, but if their approach takes place rapidly, they may get here before I am able to give you enough warning.”
“Can you tell where they are coming from?”
“The vibrations come from the direction of the rising sun, and are now getting stronger.”
Dyani’s thoughts reflected alarm bordering on panic. “What should I do? I could remain very still and hope they will miss me, but they may see me anyway. I wish Mother were here to protect me!”
The oak was silent for a while. Finally, the entire tree shook once as if it had reached a conclusion. “They are near! Get ready to escape! If necessary, I will try to slow them down!”
A few moments later, there was a big commotion to the east of the oak and a dozen large, upright creatures came out of the surrounding trees moving rapidly, as if getting away from something. They carried metal tubes, some of which were emitting acrid fumes; a couple of them were releasing a pungent red substance that Dyani identified as blood, having seen and smelled it on one of her mother’s legs once. Dyani had never seen humans before, but identified them from the repeated descriptions and warnings to avoid them he had received from his mother.
The human that led the others was the first to approach the oak tree. He seemed to spot Dyani, for he extended a limb in his direction and issued a series of loud sounds from the mouth in his head. He raised the tube he was carrying and pointed it in the direction of the fawn.
Dyani reacted instantaneously. He rose in a single motion and bounded high into the air, running away into the forest, seeking to leave the intruders behind. At the same time, the oak shed a barrage of acorns down; some acorns fell directly on the lead human, others interfered with the aim of his tube, so that its discharge emptied on the ground instead of striking their intended target.
As Dyani disappeared deeper into the forest, he directed a final thought at the oak: “Many thanks for saving me!” The tree’s response came as a vanishing whisper: “Take good care and return soon! The forest awaits!”
THE END
Bio:
Born in Cuba, Matias Travieso-Diaz migrated to the United States as a young man. He became an engineer and lawyer and practiced for nearly fifty years. After retirement, he took up creative writing. Over two hundred and seventy of his short stories have been published or accepted for publication in anthologies, magazines, blogs, audio books, and podcasts. One of his four novels, an autobiography entitled “Cuban Transplant,” and four anthologies of his stories have also been published.