1 1 8 Ways of Wood Folk. 



in the woods at sunset sometimes hears it from a tan- 

 gle of grapevine and bullbrier. If he has the patience 

 to push his way carefully thiough the underbrush, he 

 may see the beautiful Bob on a rock or stump, utter- 

 ing the softest and most musical of whistles. He is 

 telling his ilock that here is a nice place he has found, 

 where they can spend the night and be safe from owls 

 and prowling foxes. 



If the visitor be very patient, and lie still, he will 

 presently hear the pattering of tiny feet on the leaves, 

 and see the brown birds come running in from every 

 direction. Once in a lifetime, perhaps, he may see 

 them gather in a close circle — tails together, heads 

 out, like the spokes of a wheel, and so go to sleep for 

 the night. Their soft whistlings and chirpings at such 

 times form the most delightful sound one ever hears 

 in the woods. 



This call of the male bird is not difficult to imitate. 

 Hunters who know the birds will occasionally use it to 

 call a scattered covey together, or to locate the male 

 birds, which generally answer the leader's call. I have 

 frequently called a flock of the birds into a thicket at 

 sunset, and caught running glimpses of them as they 

 hurried about, looking for the bugler who called taps. 



All this occurred to me late one afternoon in the 

 great Zoological Gardens at Antwerp. I was watch- 

 ing a yard of birds — three or four hundred represent- 



