II 



This was certainly true of the old beech 

 partridge. When he spread his tail wide and 

 darted away among the beeches, his color 

 blended so perfectly with the gray tree trunks ^g OfBeech 

 that only a keen eye could separate him. ^Pofrithfe 

 And he knew every art of the dodger per- 

 fectly. When he rose there was scarcely a 

 second of time before he had put a big tree 

 between you and him, so as to cover his line 

 of flight. I don't know how many times he 

 had been shot at on the wing. Every hunter 

 I knew had tried it; and every boy who 

 roamed the woods in autumn had sought to 

 pot him on the ground. But he never lost a 

 feather ; and he would never stand to a dog 

 long enough for the most cunning of our 

 craft to take his position. 



When a covey of young partridges hear a 

 dog running in the woods, they generally flit 

 to the lower branches of a tree and kwit-kwit 

 at him curiously. They have not yet learned 

 the difference between him and the fox, who 

 is the ancient enemy of their kind, and whom 

 their ancestors of the wilderness escaped and 

 tantalized in the same way. But when it is 



