294 Next to the Ground 



like the wind. It is to escape him and his 

 sort that they roost so high. The young birds 

 leave the ground at night at three days old, 

 and at a week can hop and flutter to perches 

 higher than a man's head. At six weeks they 

 go to the tree-tops as easily as the old birds. 

 But neither old nor young perch in the high- 

 est tips. They keep under thickly netted 

 branches and almost invariably hug the tree- 

 trunk, thus depriving owls and night-hawks 

 of the flying impetus necessary to a success- 

 ful strike. 



But they have no fear of the curious thing 

 stirring there in the leaves, any more than 

 they have of the fluttering red rag which sets 

 turkeys, wild or tame, to gabbling and scold- 

 ing with all their might. As the big birds run 

 toward the leaf-stirrer they yelp and p-prut- 

 prut angrily. As with the ducks, Reynard 

 lies quiet until they come within range. He 

 singles out a hen — he has no mind for run- 

 ning weighted with a gobbler — snatches her, 

 gives a quick crunch through the head, and 

 gallops off, dragging the carcass until he can 

 take time to fling it over his back. In some 

 points he is a gentleman — especially as com- 

 pared with the wild-cat, or the weasel. He 

 always kills before eating, and kills only to 

 eat. Wild-cats eat their prey alive, rending 

 and tearing quivering flesh until by chance 



