THE PHEASANT. yi 



remains in the company of his mates for a short period, 

 and then betakes himself to his Hfe of soh'tude again, 

 leaving the female to bring up her family alone. This is 

 perhaps a wise provision of Nature, unnatural as it may 

 appear, for his presence near them would only aid in 

 the discovery of the nest, and the female birds are fully 

 competent to fulfil the duties falling upon them. The 

 females separate, although in some instances where the 

 birds are well preserved two females will share the same 

 nest, as is sometimes the case with domestic poultry, and 

 each seeks out a fitting place for her home, under the 

 brambles, amongst bracken, or in the withered ^rass 

 up the hedgerow side. Her nest is merely a cavity 

 scratched out and lined with a few leaves, dry grass, or 

 fern ; and her eggs are as unobtrusive as herself, deep 

 brown or olive-green of different shades. They are 

 rather smaller than the eggs of domestic poultry, are 

 subject to much variation in size, and from ten to twenty 

 in number. I once knew of a Pheasant who had the 

 extraordinary number of twenty-six eggs, nearly all of 

 which hatched satisfactorily. When the bird leaves her 

 eggs to search for food, invariably in early morning and 

 evening, she covers her eggs carefully with leaves or any 

 other material with which her nest is surrounded, thus 

 shielding her eggs from view. When she is at heme her 

 own sober plumage harmonizes closely with the surround- 

 ings, and forms the chief protection both for herself and 

 her charge. When leaving her nest, too, she is wariness 

 itself, and files from it always, returning in the same man- 

 ner, thus leaving no scent which the vigilant weasel can 

 follow, or track which man can read. 



It is not often all the eggs prove fertile, and when 

 the young are hatched she leads them and shelters them 

 under her wings, just as our own domestic hen tends her 



