THE FAMILIAR BIRDS 



had just left her nest in the grass a few yards below 

 me. She fussed about on the ground for a few min- 

 utes, and then flew away, and disappeared in the 

 vineyard. In ten minutes or so she returned to the 

 bit of ploughed ground where I first saw her, and 

 went through the same fussy, nervous manoeuvres 

 as at first. Then she came up to a rosebush quite 

 near me and occupied herself there for a few seconds, 

 hopping about amid the branches, and going down 

 to the ground as if in quest of food, mindful all the 

 time, I could see, of my presence. Then she flew 

 back to the ploughed land again, and hopped about, 

 very watchful and suspicious, it seemed to me. She 

 then came a few feet up into the grass and alighted 

 on a small, dry maple-branch that had fallen from 

 the trees above. Here she flirted and attitudinized 

 a moment or two, and then came to the rosebush 

 again and repeated her former movements; then 

 back to the ploughed ground, then to the dry branch, 

 where she sat still and considered a moment, and 

 then hopped down in the grass and disappeared 

 from my view. As she did not again appear, I knew 

 she had gone to her nest. Presently I moved down 

 there very carefully, and, scanning the ground 

 closely, lest I step on the nest, I* began the search. 

 When I was within a yard of the nest, which proved 

 to be completely hidden, I heard a rustle in some 

 dry leaves, and saw a rapidly moving line of shaking 

 grass-stems as the bird ran from her nest. Then I 

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