JOHNNIE GREENHEAD 53 



was feeding and when his mate hastily swam into the deep 

 water, Johnnie totally ignored his presence as he had 

 learned to do to a dog in the farmyard. He did not realize 

 his mistake until the wolf sprung for him, but luck was 

 with him. The creature fell just short of the mark and 

 Johnnie escaped with the loss of only a handful of feathers. 

 All of his hatred of being picked now centered around the 

 sight and smell of a wolf. Never again would he sit still 

 and allow such a creature to approach. 



When there were ten eggs in the nest, Mrs. Johnnie 

 began to sit. Now Johnnie was disconsolate. In the farm- 

 yard the ducks never hatched their own eggs and to be left 

 alone was a new experience. For two or three days he 

 stood about the nest or paddled about in the water near 

 by. His mate, after carefully covering her eggs with down 

 and grass, left the nest for a few moments every day to 

 feed, but then she was too preoccupied to be a good com- 

 panion. When one fortunate morning he learned that there 

 was a drake's club organized by the heads of the mallard 

 families in the neighborhood who found themselves in the 

 same fix he was, he joined at once. He quickly fell into 

 their way of making this one long gala day, visiting every 

 nook on the lake and feeding to the full. From them he 

 learned to dive to escape from hawks and to dash into 

 the first brush possible when pursued in the air. He 

 saw a companion which could find no cover when pur- 

 sued, overtaken by a hawk that tore his throat open and 

 carried him away lifeless. His wife, however, did not feel 

 slighted by his absence, for she felt much safer alone while 

 sitting, for then she could crouch in the grass which exactly 

 matched her color and not be seen. Anyway, he soon lost 

 so many feathers that he could not fly for two weeks or 



