258 GRAY LADY AND THE BIRDS 
“Yes, that is one of the difficulties, but I think an 
idea that I have borrowed, and am trying now for myself, 
may partly solve the trouble. Look ahead of you, close 
to the rail fence. What do you see? No; don’t rush to 
the fence and trample the snow; keep on the lane side.” 
“It’s some sort of a tent,” said Tommy; “I thought 
at first it was just a corn-stack with snow on it.” 
“No; it isn’t a tent,” said Everett Judd, going closer; 
“it’s only bean poles stacked with the vines left hanging, 
two rows of them, so’s the snow won’t all drift in at one 
spot.” 
“And what else?” asked Gray Lady. “Don’t you see 
cracked corn and mill sweepings scattered in between 
the poles? This is a feeding-station for our friends, 
the game-birds, if we can only make them understand 
that it is not a form of trap and does not hold a snare 
in disguise.” 
Jack Todd, who had gone close to the tepee on one 
side, stepping on stones that he might avoid tracking 
the snow, and was examining the ground intently, sud- 
denly cried out, “There have been mill sweepings here, 
because I can see some dust, but the grain is all gone, 
and I guess—no; I’m sure—there have been Grouse 
about, and they have fed here since snow fell, for there 
are tracks coming out from under the fence and going 
back the same way!” 
“But how can you tell that they belong to Grouse?” 
asked Gray Lady, coming close to look at the prints and 
thinking in her excitement they might have been made 
by chickens. 
“No, they are real Grouse tracks, for they’ve got their 
