At the edge of the wood, the buck stopped and turned, looked back with crazed eyes as Clay-Boy emerged from underneath the ragged tree, still holding his torch aloft. The doe had nearly succeeded in freeing herself. Keeping one eye on the buck, who stood pawing the ground at the edge of the pine wood, Clay-Boy grasped one large tree limb in the deadfall, gave it one powerful tug, and the doe leaped free. Limping slightly she bounded into the forest. The buck turned and followed.
