222 STOKIES OF BIKD LIFE 



their dark blood stained the stone steps of the north en- 

 trance. It was a wild morning for the birds, their peace 

 and joy were at an end, the snake had entered the garden. 

 The killdeers fled for parts unknown, bearing with them 

 their tale of horror and woe. 



Earlier in the day the hunters had killed a rabbit and 

 some partridges. That night there was a feast. All the 

 game was put together, rabbit, pigeon, and sapsucker; 

 partridge, flicker, and lark, and was 



"In the cauldron boiled and baked." 



The next day scarcely a bird was to be seen on the campus. 

 The jays kept far back in the large timber. Once a flicker 

 came to the edge of the woods and looked across to the 

 campus and sounded his drum call on a dead limb. But 

 no answering note came back from the silent campus, save, 

 faintly borne to his ears, the laughter of the hunters start- 

 ing out again, at which he turned and fled back to the cover 

 of the forest. 



But Xantippe did not leave. Where else should she go? 

 Just before night she flew up to the new east building, 

 for her roosting place was under the eaves. Surely no 

 hunter would think of eating her ; and for what other pur- 

 pose would one wish to shoot her? Suddenly there was a 

 roar beneath. Pains shot like steel blades through her 



