IDYLLS OF BIRD LIFE 
of weeds as I tramped on. Within an hour’s time I was at home 
by a crackling fire, making notes of what I had seen that won- 
derful morning, for I hoped to use them at some future time. 
The next morning dawned clear, bright and very cold. I 
was at the bird shelter long before the thin crescent of a silvery 
moon had slipped from a western sky. I approached the place 
quietly, but a loud “Whirr-r-r-r!” proclaimed that the birds 
were on the alert. They had evidently found the place the day 
before, and that was all that was necessary. The food which 
had been placed there for them was all gone, so I quickly scat- 
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/ \ \ > // 
tered a new supply of cracked corn, wheat and other food, re- 
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plenishing the water by breaking the ice in the brook and filling 
the pan. I then concealed myself behind a clump of cedars to 
\ 
await developments. In a few minutes several chickadees, 
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probably my friends of yesterday, came down to breakfast. In 
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about an hour, which was the coldest period I ever experienced, 
the whole bevy of quail, twelve in all, returned. While the 
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birds were feeding, one of their number would act as guard to 
warn the others of any danger. They were all plump and beau¬ 
tifully mottled, their rich chestnut and grey markings contrast- 
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ing nicely against the white foreground of their surroundings. 
r 53 ] 
