wn, spreading wings and tail and
budding ruff, as if he were drumming, and sending out his peculiar call
at every pause. Above him, in a long line on the same log, five other
partridges were sitting perfectly quiet, save now and then, when an
answer came to the leader's call, they would turn their heads and listen
intently till the underbrush parted cautiously and another bird flitted
up beside them. Then another call, and from the distant hillside a faint
_kwit-kwit_ and a rush of wings in answer, and another partridge would
shoot in on swift pinions to pull himself up on the log beside his
fellows. The line would open hospitably to let him in; then the row grew
quiet again, as the leader called, turning their heads from side to side
for the faint answers.

There were nine on the log at last. The calling grew louder and louder;
yet for several minutes now no answer came back. The flock grew uneasy;
the leader ran from his log into the brush and back again, calling
loudly, while a low chatter, the first break in their strange silence,
ran back and forth through the family on the log. There were others to
come; but where were they, and why did they tarry? It was growing late;
already an owl had hooted, and the roosting place was still far away.
_Prut, prut, pr-r-r-reee!_ called the leader, and the chatter ceased as
the whole flock listened.

I turned my head to the hillside to listen also for the laggards; but
there was no answer. Save for the cry of a low-flying loon and the snap
of a twig--too sharp and heavy for little feet to make--the woods were
all silent. As I turned to the log again, something warm and heavy
rested against my side. Then I knew; and with the knowledge came a swift
thrill of regret that made me feel guilty and out of place in the
silent woods. The leader was calling, the silent flock were waiting for
two of their number who would never answer the call again.

I lay scarcely ten yards from the log on which the sad little drama went
on in the twilight shadows, while the great silence grew deep and
deeper, as if the wilderness itself were in sympathy and ceased its
cries to listen. Once, at the first glimpse of the group, I had raised
my rifle and covered the head of the largest bird; but curiosity to know
what they were doing held me back. Now a deeper feeling had taken its
place; the rifle slid from my hand and lay unnoticed among the fallen
leaves.

Again the leader called. The flock drew itsel