154 THE PARTRIDGE 



Darkness fell over the countryside, and as 

 long as it lasted the partridge chicks did not 

 venture from their nest. But with the first peep 

 of dawn, little heads were pushed from between 

 the yielding feathers of the mother's breast and 

 wings, shining eyes looked forth on the beautiful 

 new world of summer, and low twitters of 

 curiosity and wonder were exchanged. Soon, 

 joined by her mate, that had slept in a grass- 

 tuft by the nest, the hen-bird led her brood 

 through the " creeps " of the rabbit and the hare 

 into the growing corn, where, running to and 

 fro, and gossiping intermittently of their joy 

 and surprise, they fed on seeds and insects 

 pecked from the soil or from the dewy herbage 

 about the stalks of the wheat, while the parents 

 guided their movements with scarcely audible 

 notes of warning or encouragement. They soon 

 grew tired ; and, when the sun rose over the 

 tallest tree by the gateway, they nestled again 

 beneath the hen-bird's wings as she crouched on 

 the nest, and the cock, standing in the shadow 

 of a clump of thistles close beside them, kept 

 watch for every sign of danger. 



At noon the little family adjourned to the 

 hedge-bank, and there, choosing a dry, sunny 

 spot by a rabbit burrow, the old birds indulged 

 in a luxurious dust-bath, fluffing out their breasts, 

 idly stretching their wings and feet, and kicking 



