THE SEVEN SISTERS 207 
excited twittering and screaming. Then the various 
members of the little company take cover, and remain 
silently in hiding until the danger is passed. Some 
babblers will unite and boldly beat off a bird which 
attacks them. The Madras ones are not so brave; 
they hold discretion to be the better part of valour. 
So, for the sake of safety, the members of each little 
company keep together, hopping about and rummaging 
among fallen leaves for the minute insects upon which 
they feed. 
The tiny community has no leader. All the members 
are equal. Any one may take the lead, and the rest 
seem to follow as a matter of course. As they saunter 
along together, the babblers keep up a constant flow of 
small talk. Their voices are not beautiful, and those 
not familiar with the birds are apt to mistake pleasant 
conversation for squabbling. 
“Fighting?” says Phil Robinson, “not at all; do 
not be misled by the tone of voice. That heptachord 
clamour is not the expression of strong feelings. It is 
only a way they have.” 
Dick says: “Well, Bill, what luck?” “A bit of all 
right,” replies Bill, with his mouth full. “Going strong, 
Jane?” asks Harry, as he discovers an insect on the 
under side of a decayed leaf. “What do you think?” 
squeaks Jane. “Old Bob’s having a fine blow out!” 
remarks Tom, casually. Jack suddenly calls out: “My 
eye! here’s a find,” and then the whole Club rushes to 
see what he has found, each member chattering at the 
top of his voice. 
It is wonderful how rare fights among babblers are. 
