WILD LIFE ON THE WING 
of her life : the first day that she would spend 
in the wood's freedom. The spell of the 
dawn was over the place strange noises and 
strange smells, and over all the loud dominant 
voice of Creaban. She thought that he was 
calling as he had called so often outside the 
yard at Tonsella, and she dropped off her perch 
with a contented cluck. He was in the next 
clearing. 
" Kock-up Rock up ! " 
O simpleton, could not the spirit of the old 
jungle cock who had led you so far have 
warned you now ? She came to the glade's 
edge, so boldly that a certain skilful hunter 
the same who had aroused the Pheasant's exe- 
cration was staggered, suspecting a trap. 
Then, because he was a wily hunter, he 
crouched, pads down, and crept nearer. The 
bramble leaves rustled, and the fading moon- 
light flickered on them still she did not see. 
" Go - back Go - back back back ! ' 
warned Creaban from his tree ; but she 
thought that he said : " Come come," and 
his voice was the voice of the woods. She 
saw, but did not heed, the stare of the hunter's 
eyes that sinister unwinking stare which sets 
the hearts of the wood-people thudding. She 
was both of the wood and of the yard the 
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