At Home with Wild Nature 



A hundred yards had not been covered when my ear 

 caught a faint querulous cheep, cheep, cheep coming 

 from the rough old heather we had just waded knee- 

 deep through on the hillside. Leaving my wife on the 

 mossy track we had just reached, I reclimbed the hill, 

 stopping ever and anon to listen and pick up the guiding 

 notes again. Luckily my advance was being made with 

 caution, for before I realized it I stumbled upon a hen 

 pheasant sitting brooding a family of chicks, two or 

 three of which peeped out of their mother's breast 

 plumage to take an inquiring look at me. 



Withdrawing from the scene slowly and quietly I 

 recovered the camera from its hiding-place and faced a 

 difficulty of haunting fear. Would there be enough 

 light of day left wherewith to focus and expose my 

 plates ? The bird gave no trouble whatsoever, for she 

 sat like a rock, although the contour of the ground com- 

 pelled me to use my fearsome apparatus within three or 

 four feet of her. My focus was guesswork, for although 

 I moved the millhead of my lens back and forth a dozen 

 times I could not make up my mind when the pheasant 

 was sharp on the ground glass. Stop f22 was placed on 

 the lens, and one of the fastest plates made in this or 

 any other country given an exposure of seven seconds ! 

 The result shown in the illustration facing page 136 was, 

 of course, a happy accident. 



The bird never once stirred except in response to the 

 hustling of the chicks beneath her, and I left her in 

 peace, to re-hide the camera and join my wife on the 

 old-world track below. 



