With an arrow ready on her bow, Kwikstaart crouched behind a bush. She peered down the arrow shaft through the branches of the bushes. With her cheek resting against the bowstring and her eyes fixed on the opening in the trees at the edge of the forest, she waited. She had already heard the distinctive hoofbeats of deer. Kwikstaart checked the direction of the wind. She had pulled out a hair from her head and had hung it over a branch directly in front of her. If the wind had changed, it would have become pointless to wait any longer. The scent of her body and that of her companion Sluipende Puma would have been carried by the wind to their prey and the shy animals would avoid this watering hole.
Behind her, Kwikstaart heard the soft tapping of the beads of a necklace. Her friend Sluipende Puma thoughtlessly let beads slip through her fingers. Sluipende Puma was bored. Kwikstaart had instructed her to keep quiet, but she was very bad at it.  Just as Kwikstaart was about to ask Sluipende Puma again to be silent, she saw the head of a deer emerge through the opening. It stood motionless and, twisting its ears, surveying the pool's surroundings closely. Kwikstaart feared it had heard the soft ticking sounds. The sound could not be identified by  the animal. 

It stood with its ears forward, staring in the direction of the two girls. Kwikstaart held her breath and mentally cursed her friend. The persistence of the sound seemed to reassure the deer, however. It even seemed to make her curious. Inquisitive, it took a step forward toward the hiding place. Kwikstaart now hoped that Sluipende Puma would continue. She gently drew the feathered tail of the arrow back onto the bowstring. 
Impatiently, other deer pushed past the lead deer to the watering hole, and Kwikstaart spotted her prey. A foal of a few months old was allowed game and Kwikstaart chose one that hopped along with her mother on her way to the water's edge. She traced with the point of her arrow where it should enter the body just behind the front legs. She then pointed the arrow slightly downward and let go. Sluipende Puma heard the vibration of the bowstring and looked up. She straightened from her sitting position to peer through the gaps between the branches and just caught sight of the last animals of the herd disappearing into the woods. “Do you have one?” she whispered excitedly. 
Kwikstaart shrugged and picked up another arrow. She docked it and shifted her body to relax her muscles. Sluipende Puma had already risen. "Come on, let's go see," she suggested. 
"Wait, wait." said Kwikstaart calmly. 
Sluipende Puma knelt and peered through the undergrowth again. "They're all gone, you know. Are you sure you hit one?” Kwikstaart shook her head in denial. She hadn't seen the arrow strike. In the sudden disarray of the fleeing deer, Kwikstaart had lost sight of her prey. She knew, however, that if she had hit him where she aimed, it wouldn't get very far. Sluipende Puma lacked Kwikstaart’s patience and squeezed her way out through the opening. She ran around the bushes of their hiding place to the waterhole and looked around at the place where the deer had just been drinking. "I don't see an arrow, Kwikstaart." she called over her shoulder. She walked around searching, looking for blood.  Instead of aiding her search, Kwikstaart walked on to where the deer had disappeared into the woods. “Not there, Sluipende Puma!” she said to her friend as she passed.   

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