A PIONEER 
a movement escaped him. Never did he 
regard us with the least confidence, and our 
approach was the signal for a display of 
many amusing little wiles all intended to 
deceive us. Not once resorting to the 
stratagem of a broken wing, so common 
among wild birds, he attempted to convince 
us that the nest was in another part of the 
meadow. With elaborate absence of con- 
cealment, he carried butterflies fluttering 
like whirligigs and dragon-flies without 
number to a spot a hundred yards from the 
true nest. This was repeated day after day, 
and each time, finding it useless, he perched 
on the same fence post and called more 
piteously than ever. So long as we were 
visible, the young meadow larks cuddled 
together in unwinking silence, but if, hidden 
from them by the arched roof of their snug 
nursery, we were absolutely still for a time 
and then swished the grass lightly, every 
little mouth opened wide for food, with 
plaintive chirps. They remained in the 
nest until about twelve days old. One 
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