So in a little while she led the way slowly along the pine grown ridge which bent around a shoulder of the mountain. She was headed for the spring which marked the beginning of Broad Brook. Her little spotted fawn, Nimble, kept close beside her. Slowly as his mother moved, he found the traveling none too easy. And he was glad when she stopped in a pocket-like clearing. There she spoke to a proud speckled bird who was sitting on a log and amusing himself by spreading his tail feathers into a beautiful fan.