THE PHEASANT 
woo his renegade slave back to the harem. 
The Pheasant drew himself up. In the dull 
clearing his gay feathers held the eye like 
a gleam of sunshine. He came down deliber- 
ately from the stump. The Cock began to 
breathe short and noisily. He clenched his 
claw against his breast, and shook his hackles 
until they stood round his neck like a lion's 
mane. His pride in himself was monstrous : 
at that moment he would have fought any- 
thing from an eagle to a kitty-wren. 
They riposted bill to bill for a minute, 
then, casting aside the courtesies of tourna- 
ment, they closed. Twice up and down 
the clearing they skirmished, and the hens 
fluttered out of the way as they came. 
The Pheasant gave up first, for his crop 
was heavy and he gasped for his second 
wind. He dodged to covert, and the " Chic- 
'95 
