A BOBWHITE FAMILY 



145 



Had it been a male these feathers would have been white. 

 Her heart beat in quick, heavy throbs against his hand. 

 With all his heart he pitied 

 his prisoner, and soon raising 

 high his hand he let go the bird. 

 Away she went speeding across 

 the yard and over the garden, 

 her short round wings bearing 

 her at a rapid rate. Far down 

 the field the farmer watched her 

 fly until with a turn and a flut- 

 ter she dropped into the grass by 

 the rail fence. Long did the mem- 

 ory of that day's fright burn in 

 her mind, and greater grew her 

 distrust of cats and men. 



The season for gunning was ap- 

 proaching. Already the farmer's 

 son had been hunting gray squir- 

 rels in the thick woods back of the 

 farm, and one day he shot a large 

 black fox squirrel from a pine 

 near where the bobwhites were 



crouching in nervous anxiety. Soon their turn came. The 

 covey had just crossed from the pine woods into the pea- 



