THE WOOD-WREN 37 



from the pathway, beneath an arch of broom 

 and gorse. It gave no sign of life, so she ven- 

 tured into the shadow, and for about ten minutes 

 viewed the strange thing from every side, pre- 

 tending, meanwhile, that her thoughts were 

 entirely on fly-catching. Nothing stirred in the 

 thicket, and the male wood-wren, grown bold, 

 appeared on the lower branches of the broom. 

 Gaining confidence, the female joined him. 

 Both, nevertheless, still showed signs of uneasi- 

 ness. The hen was silent ; but the cock, though 

 he, too, carried a fly in his beak, and ran the 

 risk of dropping the morsel when he ventured to 

 make a sound, continually uttered a soft note, 

 imploring caution — heu-whee, heu-whee. At 

 last, impatient of prolonged delay, the female, 

 after a swift glance to right and left, overcame 

 her timidity. With a flit-flit of delicate wings 

 she darted downwards, stood before the nest 

 door, and deposited her burden in one of the 

 wide-open beaks uplifted at her coming. The 

 male, without more ado, alighted by her side, 

 and also fed the young. Both stayed for a few 

 seconds — she within the nest, and he outside — 

 attending to the cleanliness of the infant brood ; 

 then they flew away in different directions to 

 search for further supplies of ephemerals. Their 

 secret was revealed. Day after day the naturalist 

 crossed the ford to pry on their doings, and the 



