A BREATH OF APRIL 



quite the same ardor. The two pairs kept near each 

 other about the house, the bird-boxes, the trees, 

 the posts and vines in the vineyard, filling the ear 

 with their soft, insistent warbles, and the eye with 

 their twinkling azure wings. 



Was it this constant presence of rivals on both 

 sides that so stimulated them and kept them up 

 to such a pitch of courtship? Finally, after I had 

 watched them over an hour, the birds began to 

 come into collision. As they met in the vineyard, 

 the two males clinched and fell to the ground, 

 lying there for a moment with wings sprawled out, 

 like birds brought down by a gun. Then they 

 separated, and each returned to his mate, warbling 

 and twinkling his wings. Very soon the females 

 cUnched and fell to the ground and fought savagely, 

 rolling over and over each other, clawing and 

 tweaking and locking beaks and hanging on like 

 bull terriers. They did this repeatedly; once one 

 of the males dashed in and separated them, by 

 giving one of the females a sharp tweak and blow. 

 Then the males were at it again, their blue plumage 

 mixing with the green grass and ruflSed by the 

 ruddy soil. What a soft, feathery, ineffectual battle 

 it seemed in both cases; no sound, no blood, no 

 flying feathers, just a sudden mixing up and general 

 disarray of blue wings and tails and ruddy breasts, 

 there on the ground; assault but no visible wounds; 

 thrust of beak and grip of claw, but no feather 



