100 ON THE WING. 



I was in a hayfield one summer, when some farmers, 

 in mowing, came across a quail's nest containing seven- 

 teen eggs. I persuaded them to leave a bit of grass 

 standing about the nest, in order that it might not be 

 disturbed, and that we might have an opportunity of 

 watching the operations of the old quail. It was at 

 the end of the field, and near an old fence. I was 

 particularly desirous of seeing the young ones when 

 they first came out of the shell ; and, as I suspected 

 it was about time for them to make their appearance, 

 I kept a pretty close watch of the nest. One morn- 

 ing one of the men, in turning some hay near the nest, 

 accidentally struck the old quail on the bill with the 

 tine of his fork. She paid very little attention to this 

 assault upon her, manifesting not the slightest dis- 

 position to move on. I was struck at once with this 

 peculiar trait in a bird usually so very wild ; and I 

 began to poke her gently to see if she could be in- 

 duced to leave the nest. I found that nothing but 

 force would remove her, and so I left her, reflecting 

 in my own mind upon Nature's wise provision in en- 

 dowing so simple and so frail a creature with such a 

 courageous and motherly instinct. On going to the 

 nest the next morning I found it empty. The old 

 bird had made off with her whole brood, and not one 

 chick could I find. It then became apparent what 

 made the old bird stick to her nest so courageously 

 the day before, — she was about to leave it with her 

 young ones, and did not want to let us know it. It 

 is often quite amusing to see tne uneducated sportsman 

 try to find the young peepers, when only two or three 



