She had never witnessed death in that form before, but she knew her lover was dead.

His silence--his form stretched along the grass motionless and limber--his glassy eyes--all told her he had ceased to live.
She would have fled, but she could not leave him--she could not bear to part even from his lifeless form.

She would remain a while, and mourn over him.
Her widowhood was a short one.

Again flashed the priming,--again cracked the shining tube--and the sorrowing doe fell over upon the body of her mate.
The young hunter rose to his feet, and ran forward.

He did not, according to usual custom, stop to load before approaching his quarry.
The plain was perfectly level, and he saw no other animal upon it.