Edith C. Howley
["Fawn"] might be called an historical vignette, a character study, or a brief tale of the attack by the British on Fort Ticonderoga in 1758…. [It is] all told from the point of view of a sixteen-year-old boy, half Mohawk and half French…. Our sympathies are with the Indians, yet the occasional descriptions of their ways of torture make it difficult to sustain sympathy. Maybe it's really all a long sermon on the folly of war.
Edith C. Howley, "Fiction: 'Fawn'," in Best Sellers (copyright 1975, by the University of Scranton), Vol. 34, No. 22, February 15, 1975, p. 515.
Children accustomed to the charm of puppies and kittens and with the general concept of animals as furry, if not cuddly, friends going gently about their quaint business in the calm and peace of the country landscape will be jolted into another world if they read Path of Hunters. Here, in all its savage violence, is the bloodstained tapestry of life and death as the hunter in turn becomes the hunted. (pp. 126-27)
Birth, hunger and death are the main threads woven inexorably into that pattern called, euphemistically, the balance of nature. The writing is direct and compelling. The visit to the pet shop will never be quite the same again, and the awareness of the harsh reality beneath the quiet of the meadow will not easily be lost. (p. 127)
"'Path of Hunters'," in The Junior Bookshelf, Vol. 39, No. 2, April, 1975, p. 127.