1 06 Trails to Woods and Waters 



formed themselves into the well-known bunch 

 and fallen asleep, so they stole quietly away, 

 leaving them dry and comfortable under the 

 spruce, but it was only part of the family, 

 Bob-White and four of his chicks; the little 

 hen and the other four had gone away in the 

 hunter's game bag. 



December and January came and went and 

 the leafless, flowerless world was in the clutch 

 of midwinter. Day after day the snow fell 

 and the cold was so intense that sometimes in 

 the deep woods the stout heart of maple or 

 birch was cracked asunder. 



One morning, when the small boy who had 

 gone to the pasture that night with Old Ben 

 to search for the quail awoke, he found the 

 world ice-clad and snow-bound and in the 

 clutch of a terrible freeze. The windows were 

 so clouded with frost that he could not see out 

 until he had melted it with his breath, but 

 when the frost had been melted, the boy cried 

 out with grief, for there upon the window-sill 

 huddled close to the glass was the stiff, stark 

 form of his Bob-White. 



