168 THE OPEN AIR. 



matters, when it occurred to me, before I could finish 

 the step I had taken, so quick is thought, that the 

 eye was not large enough to be that of a rabbit. 

 I stopped; the black glittering eye had gone— the 

 creature had lowered its neck, but immediately 

 noticing that 1 was looking in that direction, it 

 cautiously raised itself a little, and I saw at once 

 that the eye was the eye of a bird. This I knew 

 first by its size, and next by its position in relation 

 to the head, which was invisible — for had it been 

 a rabbit or hare, its ears would have projected. 

 The moment after, the eye itself confirmed this — 

 the nictitating membrane was rapidly drawn over 

 it, and as rapidly removed. This membrane is the 

 distinguishing mark of a bird's eye. But what bird ? 

 Although I was within two yards, I could not even 

 see its head, nothing but the glittering eyeball, on 

 which the light of the sun glinted. The sunbeams 

 came over my shoulder straight into the bird*s face. 



Without moving — which I did not wish to do, as it 

 would disturb the bird — I could not see its plumage ; 

 the bramble spray in front, the spurge behind, and 

 the bleached grasses at the side, perfectly concealed 

 it. Only two birds I considered would be likely to 

 squat and remain quiescent like this — partridge or 

 pheasant ; but I could not contrive to view the least 

 portion of the neck. A moment afterwards the eye 

 came up again, and the bird slightly moved its head, 

 when I saw its beak, and knew it was a pheasant 

 immediately. I then stepped forward — almost on 

 the bird — and a young pheasant rose, and flew 

 bstween the tree-trunks to a deep dry watercourse, 



