84 OUT OF DOORS. 



and tries to mislead her pursuer by artifices that would 

 do credit to the cunningest fox that ever baffled a pack 

 of hounds. She first tries to elude observation alto- 

 gether, flies sharply to a little distance, settles on a 

 plant, drops to the ground through the leaves, and 

 either endeavours to lie hidden until the enemy has 

 left the spot, or to crawl quietly away under the shelter 

 of the foliage. It needs a practised eye to find the 

 crafty insect as she crouches to the ground ; and the 

 best way is to rustle the herbage with a stick, and 

 frighten her out of her hiding-place. 



Off she goes in a great fume, humming and buzzing 

 like a dozen bees, but never in the direction of her 

 nest. Follow her up, and, finding that she cannot 

 escape, she will change her tactics. She then tries to 

 delude her pursuer into the notion that her nest is 

 close at hand, and exhibits a vast amount of spurious 

 anxiety about some little hole in the ground, about 

 which she makes a great turmoil — crawling in, backing 

 out, fluttering all round it, and making as great a fuss 

 as if all her parental affections and household cares 

 were centred in that little empty hollow. 



Then, perhaps, she will pretend that she has not 

 yet made her nest, and traverses the bank backward 

 and forward as if she were seeking for a suitable 

 locality, peering into every little crevice, scratching 

 out a little soil here and there, and sometimes sitting 

 quietly down for some moments as if quite fatigued. 

 Turn your back for a minute, and Madam Drumbledore 



