THE CUCKOO FAMILY 177 
knew at once it was her baby I held in my 
hand. 
I suppose the poor mother thought I wanted 
to carry the youngster off. I could n’t bear 
to have a bird think that for a minute; so I 
opened my hands and away he went, half flying, 
half scrambling up the road, while the mother 
slipped back into the woods. In a moment she 
began again her hollow-sounding calls, which I 
had thought were woodpecker tappings. 
