PHEASANTS: IN PEACE III 
leaves too—at the expense of those not ready. I 
recall the case of a pheasant that was sitting on ten 
eggs. I did not know when she would be due to 
hatch, having found her sitting, and counted her 
eggs when she was off to feed. However, coming 
her way one afternoon, I was surprised to see her 
squatting about a foot from her nest, in which were 
nine eggs and an empty shell. She was brooding a 
strong chick, and had left the nine eggs, chipped, 
and each containing a live chick. Another time a 
pheasant was sitting on her nest, in which were a 
few eggs still to be hatched and two very newly- 
hatched chicks, while an inch or two outside the nest 
were three fine chicks dead and stiff. Soa pheasant 
whose eggs do not hatch out together has to choose 
one of the two horrible horns of her dilemma. Of 
course, should the hen decide to give her remaining 
eggs a chance to hatch, all may go well with the 
chicks who explore beyond her protection—if the 
weather is fine. 
Brooding or hovering, which mean protection and 
warmth, are the secret of a chick’s life in early days ; 
the warmth of the mother’s body, or of warmth 
equal thereto, is quite as essential as suitable food. 
Even if she hatches all her eggs, it is unreasonable 
to expect a pheasant to rear a large brood except 
during a spell of warm days and nights, when the 
chicks are comparatively independent of the warmth 
supplied by their mother. It is well known how 
