THE REDWING 
the shadows of the woods, and at noon the sun 
gleamed weakly through the clouds. The 
Feather Folk are sure weather prophets they 
knew that a thaw was coming. The wild duck 
wandered from stream to pool to see whether 
the ice was melted yet, and Pillibeen the Plover 
and his brothers went north in thousands. 
Just across the fields was a little copse and 
that night the birds roosted there in hundreds. 
The winter night is eight hours longer than 
that of midsummer, and the Feather Folk 
sleep through either, from dusk to dawn, as it 
is ordained for them ; nevertheless, in January 
they dream and wake more often than in June. 
Hence, near midnight, the patter of feet tiptoe- 
ing down the little path towards Coolnabrock, 
broke in upon the redwing's dreams. Chirping 
fitfully he drew his bill from his back feathers. 
A light breath was taken in the darkness 
underneath the bush, and the stem was jarred 
ever so slightly. The redwing was suspicious 
and hopped two twigs higher. Suddenly 
something heaved up, and there was the click 
of disappointed jaws snapping under his tail, 
as the fox hurled himself into the bush, and 
slithered back amid a crashing of twigs. 
Shacaim dashed out, and at his alarm note the 
copse sprang into rushing beating life. Black- 
bird, throstle, redwing, all panic - spurred, 
K 145 
