DAYS AMONG THE PLOVER. 1 49 



heaven, expecting to see a little speck among the 

 clouds, a bit of gray flitting over some corn be- 

 yond a fence scarce twenty yards away caught 

 my eye. Quickly the gun was whirled from my 

 shoulder toward it, and when the smoke cleared 

 nothing was there but the corn waving darkly 

 green. 



As if rebounding fiom heaven, that sweet call 

 echoed and re-echoed as I crossed the fence, and 

 half a dozen more scraps of gray started from the 

 corn. I landed from the fence in time to stop 

 the last one, and might have done so but for the 

 reflection that there was but one load in the gun 

 and no ammunition in my pocket. So anxious 

 was I that I fired a little too quickly, and above 

 the edge of the smoke the bird went sailing sky- 

 ward. But disappointment vanished as I saw 

 one of the first birds settle into the corn some 

 three hundred yards away, with two more wheel- 

 ing around to follow him. Three corn-fields 

 joined here, making one large piece a little over 

 waist-high. The birds were probably young 

 ones bred in the adjoining fields, and had gone 

 into the corn to escape the heat, and there were 

 doubtless more there. 



