292 Next to the Ground 



which give a color of possibility to the flea- 

 story. Wild fowl — ducks and geese — are 

 as curious as a village gossip. So are wild 

 turkeys. Any strange sight draws them to 

 circle about it, close and closer, peering and 

 gabbling one to another after their various 

 fashions. Some way Reynard knows their 

 weakness. He takes advantage of it, by drop- 

 ping flat upon the earth and lifting his tail at 

 short intervals to wave it furiously back and 

 forth. If he is after wild fowl, although he 

 hates wetting more than his feet, he some- 

 times plays in shallows close to the bank, 

 splashing, and standing momently upon his 

 hind feet, making a pretense of snapping at 

 something high above his head. The won- 

 dering birds swim closer, and begin to chatter 

 aloud. As he hears them Reynard plays more 

 gently, and at last lies quite still, with only his 

 eyes and nose above water. If the quacking 

 and gabbling lessens he splashes again. But 

 if the unwary flock comes within a jump of 

 him, he makes the jump, snatches a bird by 

 the neck, flings it over his shoulder by an 

 adroit jerk, then runs as hard as he can. Usu- 

 ally he gets off scot-free — the birds are too 

 amazed to do more than quack. But some- 

 times it happens that they fall upon the 

 trickster, beak and wings, rapping him, jounc- 

 ing him, trouncing him, till he is lucky if he 



