ld the love dance in
full swing.

"And there, my son, on a clear sandy opening in the wood, twenty or
thirty partridge hens were dancing in a semicircle, in the centre of
which, perched upon a rotten log, a beautiful cock partridge drummed.
He was standing with his small head thrust forward upon a finely arched
neck which was circled by a handsome outstanding black ruff, fully as
wide as his body. His extended wings grazed his perch, while his
superb tail spread out horizontally.

"'Chun--chun--chun--chun--chun-nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn,' he hissed slowly at
first, but with steadily increasing rapidity. His bill was open; his
bright eyes were gleaming; his wings were beating at such a rate that
the forest resounded with the prolonged roll of his drumming. Again
and again he shrilled his love call, and again and again he beat his
wondrous accompaniment. Every little while the whirring of swiftly
moving wings was heard overhead as other hens flew down to join in the
love dance. To and fro strutted the cock bird in all his pride of
beauty--his wings trailing upon the log, his neck arched more haughtily
than ever, his ruff rising above his head, and his handsome fan-like
tail extended higher still.

"Meanwhile, my son, the hens, too, were strutting up and down, and in
and out among their rivals; some, with wings brushing upon the ground;
others, with a single wing spread out, against which they frequently
kicked the nearest foot as they circled round each other. A continuous
hissing was kept up, along with a shaking of heads from side to side, a
ceremonious bowing, and a striking of bills upon the ground.
But--though the cock was doing his best to dazzle them with the display
of his charms--the hens appeared unconscious of his presence and
indifferent to his advances.

"There Ojistoh and I were gazing in silent admiration at the scene
before us, when--without the slightest warning, and as though dropped
from the sky--another cock landed in the midst of the dancers.
Immediately the cock of the dance rushed at the intruder and fiercely
attacked him.

"But the newcomer was ready. My son, you should have seen them. Bills
and wings clashed together. In a moment feathers were flying and blood
was running. But the hens never paused in their love dance. Again and
again the feathered fighters dashed at each other, only to drop apart.
Then, facing each other with drooping wings, ruffled plumes, extended
necks, lowered heads,