f up, like a row of
gray-brown statues, every eye bright, every ear listening, till some
vague sense of fear and danger drew them together; and they huddled on
the ground in a close group; all but the leader, who stood above them,
counting them over and over, apparently, and anon sending his cry out
into the darkening woods.

I took one of the birds out of my pocket and began to smooth the rumpled
brown feathers. How beautiful he was, how perfectly adapted in form and
color for the wilderness in which he had lived! And I had taken his
life, the only thing he had. Its beauty and something deeper, which is
the sad mystery of all life, were gone forever. All summer long he had
run about on glad little feet, delighting in nature's abundance, calling
brightly to his fellows as they glided in and out in eager search
through the lights and shadows. Fear on the one hand, absolute obedience
to his mother on the other, had been the two great factors of his life.
Between them he grew strong, keen, alert, knowing perfectly when to run
and when to fly and when to crouch motionless, as danger passed close
with blinded eyes. Then when his strength was perfect, and he glided
alone through the wilderness coverts in watchful self-dependence--a
moment's curiosity, a quick eager glance at the strange animal standing
so still under the cedar, a flash, a noise; and all was over. The call
of the leader went searching, searching through the woods; but he gave
no heed any more.

The hand had grown suddenly very tender as it stroked his feathers. I
had taken his life; I must try to answer for him now. At the thought I
raised my head and gave the clear _whit-kwit_ of a running partridge.
Instantly the leader answered; the flock sprang to the log again and
turned their heads in my direction to listen. Another call, and now the
flock dropped to the ground and lay close, while the leader drew himself
up straight on the log and became part of a dead stub beside him.

Something was wrong in my call; the birds were suspicious, knowing not
what danger had kept their fellows silent so long, and now threatened
them out of the black alders. A moment's intent listening; then the
leader stepped slowly down from his log and came towards me cautiously,
halting, hiding, listening, gliding, swinging far out to one side and
back again in stealthy advance, till he drew himself up abruptly at
sight of my face peering out of the underbrush. For a long two minutes