110 BIRD STORIES FROM BURROUGHS 



pausing within ten feet of it, and pointing to the 

 spot with his stick. 



In a moment or two we could make out the 

 mottled brown plumage of the sitting bird. Then 

 we approached her cautiously till we bent above 

 her. 



She never moved a feather. 



Then I put my cane down in the brush be- 

 hind her. We wanted to see the eggs, yet did 

 not want rudely to disturb the sitting hen. 



She would not move. 



Then I put down my hand within a few inches 

 of her; still she kept her place. Should we have 

 to lift her off bodily ? 



Then the young lady put down her hand, prob- 

 ably the prettiest and the whitest hand the quail 

 had ever seen. At least it started her, and off 

 she sprang, uncovering such a crowded nest of 

 eggs as I had never before beheld. Twenty-one 

 of them ! a ring or disk of white like a china tea- 

 saucer. You could not help saying. How pretty ! 

 How cunning! like baby hens' eggs, as if the bird 

 were playing at sitting, as children play at house- 

 keeping. 



If I had known how crowded her nest was, I 

 should not have dared disturb her, for fear she 

 would break some of them. But not an egg suf- 

 fered harm by her sudden flight. And no harm 



