SHARP EYES. 15 
for it builds no nest,— two elliptical whitish spotted 
egos lying upon the dry leaves. My foot was within 
a yard of the mother-bird before she flew. I won- 
dered what a sharp eye would detect curious or char- 
acteristic in the ways of the bird, so I came to the 
place many times and had a look. It was always a 
task to separate the bird from her surroundings, 
though I stood within a few feet of her, and knew 
exactly where to look. One had to bear on with his 
eye, as it were, and refuse to be baffled. The sticks 
and leaves, and bits of black or dark-brown bark, were 
all exactly copied in the bird’s plumage. And then 
she did sit so close, and simulate so well a shapeless 
decaying piece of wood or bark! Twice I brought 
a companion, and guiding his eye to the spot, noted 
how difficult it was for him to make out there, in full 
view upon the dry leaves, any semblance to a bird. 
When the bird returned after being disturbed, she 
would alight within a few inches of her eggs, and 
then, after a moment’s pause, hobble awkwardly upon 
them. 
After the young had appeared, all the wit of the 
bird came into play. I was on hand the next day, 
I think. The mother-bird sprang up when I was 
within a pace of her, and in doing so fanned the 
leaves with her wings till they sprang up too; as 
the leaves started the young started, and, being of 
the same color, to tell which was the leaf and which 
the bird was a trying task to any eye. I came the 
next day, when the same tactics were repeated. Once 
a leaf fell upon one of the young birds and nearly 
hid it. The young are covered with a reddish down, 
like a young partridge, and soon follow their mother 
about. When disturbed, they gave but one leap, 
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