228 DAYS OUT OF DOORS. 



iron-weed, and asters were all laid low, leaving the lone 

 tuft of grass a prominent object. On a near approach 

 I found that it covered but did not conceal a sitting 

 quail. Stooping down, I put my face within a foot of the 

 brave bird, and yet she would not move ; but never for an 

 instant did she take her eyes from me. It was evident 

 that I must actually touch her before she would leave her 

 nest, and this I abstained from doing. 



Day after day I saw her, and she was always equally 

 courageous. A week later, my companion happened to 

 pass by, and found that the nest had been abandoned. 

 The mother bird and her brood had gone, but the nest 

 was not really empty. Seven pearly egg-shells remained, 

 and they were well worthy of study. Each had been 

 opened — not merely broken — alike and in a curious man- 

 ner. A clean cut had been made nearly around the shell, 

 but enough remained intact to hold the two portions to- 

 gether. This unsevered. portion acted as a hinge, and so 

 the little quails had merely opened a wide door of their 

 own making, and through it stepped out of their cramped 

 quarters of the past two weeks or more into the outer 

 world. Occasionally I have seen a single egg, or perhaps 

 two in a nest, the shells of which had been opened in such 

 a methodical manner, but never before where such marked 

 similarity characterized the whole series. 



I have said that the young birds had " stepped out " ; 

 rather they had run, and I can testify to what good pur- 

 pose they can put their tender feet. Still, for the first 

 day of their freedom they were somewhat bewildered by 

 the strange sights about them, and their helplessness 

 when but a few hours old touched even the heart of the 

 grizzled archaeologist who for weeks had been studying 

 the mysterious earthen serpent that for centuries has 

 rested upon the summit of the cliff. He almost wished 

 himself a naturalist, as in former days, when the callow 



