WILD LIFE ON THE WING 
canopy of his mother's feathers all to himself, 
for his brother never came to share it with 
him. 
The heat grew more stifling as the day went 
on, but towards evening, though the wind did 
not rise, a great bank of clouds piled up in the 
west, and the sky below them was an angry 
brown and purple like a bruise. Twilight 
drew on earlier than usual because the sky was 
so dark, and not a breath of air stirred the 
woods. The birds sang half-heartedly, and 
dropped into silence one by one. The only 
sound was the roar of the river in the distance. 
Cearc-uise and her last chick took their supper 
hurriedly. The runt ate voraciously, as he 
always did, but his mother scarcely touched 
anything ; and he had scarcely dozed under her 
wing for half an hour before she stood up and 
tumbled him out. It was quite dark by now, 
but the air was hotter than ever, and a warm, 
bad stench arose from the Pool. Cearc-uise 
tripped softly into the bushes and called to the 
chick to follow her. At first he took her 
jerking white tail-coverts for a pilot and 
followed her by sight, but before they had 
gone half a dozen yards he could see no longer 
and was obliged to trail her by sound. The 
rustle of their footsteps was the only sound 
which broke the silence. She was on the look- 
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