SUMMER LIFE OF THE PARTRIDGE 157 



were lazily " dusting " on a mole-heap in the hay- 

 field. Not far off, the hare with her two leverets 

 squatted in their runway through the grass, and 

 the rabbits basked in the warmth on the out- 

 skirts of a thicket between a patch of clover and 

 the hedgerow. Suddenly the cock partridge 

 heard the distant clank of chains, the hoof beats 

 of a horse, and the shout of a man. The sounds 

 reminded him of the day in early spring when, 

 concealed in the ditch, he had watched the 

 farmer ploughing the cornfield, and the little 

 hen partridge had stolen back from the furze- 

 brake to the fields in which she had been reared. 

 Uttering a low " cluck, cluck " of warning to 

 his brood, he quickly ran with them to closer 

 hiding in a dense thicket of the grass. 



The sounds drew nearer, the gate swung open, 

 and, after an interval of silence, a rattling noise, 

 mingled with the measured thud, thud of the 

 horse's feet, passed down a path by the hedge 

 that the farmer on the previous day had cleared 

 with scythe and hook. All through the after- 

 noon the loud, monotonous rattle continued, 

 now on one side of the field, again on the other, 

 while the patient horse plodded on and on, and 

 the cut grass fell over in even swathes as the 

 mower gradually approached the middle of the 

 meadow. Bewildered, and not daring yet to 

 cross the widening gap beyond the unmown 



