On June 29, 1954, the day dawned bright and clear. Early in the morning, Assistant Park Naturalist Richard Brown and I were driving down the highway toward South Entrance when suddenly, rounding one of the sharp curves, we came upon a group of parked cars. We proceeded to a turn-out and then returned to the scene on foot.

"What has happened?" brought an immediate chorus, "There is a baby in there among the trees." "A what?" We were then able to find out from one of the people present that there was a baby deer in the area. The first group of people had seen a Columbian black-tailed doe and two fawns. When they stopped to take a closer look, the doe and one of the fawns jumped off into the woods, while the other fawn remained near the edge of the highway.

Fawn in Huckleberry Patch From Kodachrome by Richard M. Brown

We watched from a distance as the cameras clicked and the movie cameras droned on. After all the people had left the area, we took a closer look at the fawn. There it lay, directly in front of us, probably no more than a day or two old. It was nestled in a clump of huckleberry, its head resting on an old log. On either side of the clump of huckleberry were young mountain hemlock trees, about ten or twelve feet high.

Waiting for the sun to highlight the fawn, hoping it would not move, and trying to appear nonchalant as the cars passed by truly taxed our patience. Finally the stage was set, and Richard Brown began to take pictures of the fawn from a distance of fifty feet. With the camera showing only a few pictures remaining, Dick proceeded to move closer to the fawn, finally approaching within a few feet. During this entire time, the fawn appeared as motionless as a statue. After the roll of film was used up, I decided to see how motionless it would remain. Moving my arms outward, I gradually approached the fawn. Still no movement. Slowly I moved my hand outward as if to pet the animal. Not an eyelash fluttered. The only movement was the slight heaving of its body as it breathed. We were able to approach within a foot of the fawn.

Finally we went on our way, allowing the fawn to return to its mother. On our way back, later that same morning, we stopped at this place again, but there was no trace of the fawn.

After recounting the incident to my family that evening, we decided to return to the spot that night. Approaching cautiously, we saw a doe about 1,000 yards from the original point. Would we be able to see the doe with its two fawns again? Slowly creeping up to the area near the huckleberry mat, we peered breathlessly through the brush into the place where we had originally seen the fawn. We gazed upon an ordinary clump of huckleberries; no fawn was to be seen that night or any succeeding night. Truly we had been lucky in seeing the "once in a lifetime" view of a very young fawn that morning.