176 THE PARTRIDGE 



hatched countless insect swarms, ripened the 

 seeding tops of corn and grass, and caused the 

 red and purple berries to swell to full maturity on 

 hawthorn and bramble in the thickets of the 

 hedges. And even the longest drought failed 

 to dry up the waters of the brook. 



Winter, too, was less distressing to the birds 

 in the sheltered fields around the farm than to 

 those in the barren wilderness that, on the far 

 ridges of the grey horizon, fronted the rough 

 tempests from the north. Even the adult 

 partridges of the uplands, so trained by hardship 

 that they gleaned and were satisfied where the 

 partridges of the valley would have found noth- 

 ing fit for food, often succumbed to the rigour 

 of mid-winter. But, except in some long season 

 of severest cold, the lowland birds obtained 

 sufficient provender with ease. They suffered 

 more in rainy weather, in the choking fog of an 

 autumn night, or in the drenching thaw following 

 severe frost and snow. Often after the mountain 

 had shed its rainfall in a hundred trickling rills 

 through gorge and dingle, the valley, despite 

 its deep and thorough drainage, held the moisture 

 as in a broad and shallow receptacle from which 

 vapour and flood alike could find no means of 

 escape ; and often, when clear sunshine or 

 moonlight lay on the breezy mountains, a pall of 

 thick darkness hung over the low-lying fields, 



