122 BIRD LIFE THROUGHOUT THE YEAR 



they are so fond. If surprised, the whole family 

 squats and often escapes observation, but, if detected, 

 the old birds tumble before us with trailing wings while 

 the young run " cheeping " to hide. Much the same thing 

 occurs if we happen to stumble across a brood of newly- 

 hatched Grouse chicks on the moor. As the old bird 

 flaps and scuffles on the ground, the young, one and all, 

 become perfectly motionless, and seem to vanish before 

 our eyes, so perfect is their harmony of tint with that 

 of moss and lichen and heather. The Curlew, whose 

 loud "tr56-ey, troo-ey" betrays a world of anxiety for 

 the safety of young crouching close in the sedge amongst 

 the bog mosses, sometimes resorts to the same device 

 as the hen partridge or grouse. Picking up one of 

 the nestlings, we note that its bill, later so long and 

 curved, is at present quite short and straight, under 

 an inch in length. 



By the lake side we come upon a brood of young 

 Wild Ducks and, as the half -grown "flappers" cleverly 

 gain cover, the old bird, in a frenzy of quacking and 

 splashing, endeavours to cause a diversion in their 

 favour. This trick, " shamming wounded " as it is 

 called, is also a regular part of the stock-in-trade of 

 some of the small birds, notably of the Reed Bunting, 

 which will tumble off the nest— lame, broken-winged, 

 in a hopeless state — recovering in direct proportion 

 as danger to its nest grows less. In a hole in the steep 

 clay bank which overlooks the quiet backwater of the 



