246 BIRDS, BEASTS, AND FISHES 



her nest, generally close along the cover. But she is hard 

 to stir ; for she sits very close, and is long-suffering. 



In the marshes she loves to nest in the same place as he 

 loves to lie and sand-bathe. Any airy little place on the 

 marshes where there is a mass of beaten-down dead grass, 

 or a little heather growing, there her forms abound, and 

 dung shows her last abiding-place, eke if you do not flush 

 her and send her with scattering wings over the marshes. 



And why should the nest be more elaborate, for as soon 

 as ever the young are out of the shell they leave the nest. 

 Indeed, an old gunner once saw one go forth with part of the 

 shell upon him, so eager was he to begin the battle of life. 

 Still, they are always alert to start and run and " hide up " in 

 any little car directly the mother gives the danger-signal. 



And if you come upon the new-born clutch, the mother 

 will practise the arts of deceit, for she will fly off feigning 

 to be injured as to her wing. Sometimes she will do this 

 when flushed from her eggs, but more often she is too 

 scared. And when they begin their childish wanderings, 

 they seem at once to " do for themselves ; " for though their 

 parents may point out their food — ants and their eggs, 

 insects, and corn — they do not feed them. During this 

 period you may see her wandering on the oat-fields, and 

 later you may hear the old birds calling their young every 

 night ; for until they get well-nigh full grown, the young 

 wander afield ; but once they are full grown — and they 

 grow quickly when the corn is edible and the beans are 

 swelling, for they dearly love young beans — the family breaks 

 up, and scatters over the face of the land, to fall a prey 

 to the gunners, who do not always wait for the " first." 

 And as autumn skies close down over the face of the land, 

 and the landscape grows grey with fogs, the partridges 

 lose themselves, and stray into turnip - fields, into red- 

 berried hedgerows, or over the marram-hollows by the sea. 

 Everywhere they are to be met with, for in a fog they are 

 lost, and roam about solitary and desolate. 



