When Nimble had three-points on each of his antlers, in his fourth summer, he felt that he was at last grown up. He was now a "three-pointer." Some of the older bucks¹ had no more points than he. Many of them were but "four-pointers." His own father had been a "five-pointer." So Nimble hoped, secretly, that he would have five-point antlers in another two years.  
As soon as his new horns were ready Nimble and his friend Dodger³ the Deer began their mock battles again. And Nimble found them greater fun than ever.
 
Dodger was a spry fellow. He was quick as a flash at dodging⁴. When Nimble ran at him with head lowered and horns aimed straight at him Dodger could wait until Nimble all but struck him, before leaping aside. And then Nimble would go rushing past him.
 
But Dodger did not always dodge² when attacked. Sometimes he stood his ground, with his own head lowered in a threatening fashion. And then Nimble checked his headlong rush and merely clashed his horns pleasantly against Dodger's.
 
There was something about the sound that sent a thrill through Nimble and started his coat to bristling⁵ along his backbone⁶ with a queer, creepy feeling.
 
One day in the fall Nimble's mother came upon them in the woods when they were having one of their sham⁷ fights.
 
"You'd better stop that!" she said to them severely⁸. "Somebody will get hurt sooner or later if you're not careful."
 
Nimble and Dodger paid little heed⁹ to her warning, except to stop until the good lady had gone on and left them. Then, just as they were on the point of renewing their frolic, somebody spoke<............