e
four-footed kindreds. Just now, however, a bird came on the scene
which interested him extremely. It was a birch-partridge (or ruffled
grouse) hen, accompanied by a big brood of her tiny, nimble chicks.
They looked no bigger than chestnuts as they swarmed about her,
crowding to snatch the dainties which she kept turning up for them.
The Child watched them with fascinated eyes, not understanding how
things so tiny and so frail as these chicks could be so amazingly quick
and strong in their movements. Suddenly, at a little distance through
the bushes, he caught sight of the red fox coming back, with an air of
having forgotten something. The Child longed to warn the little
partridge mother, but, realizing that he must not, he waited with
thumping heart for a tragedy to be enacted before him.

He had no need to worry, however. The little mother saw the fox before
he caught sight of her. The Child saw her stiffen herself suddenly,
with a low _chit_ of warning which sounded as if it might have come
from anywhere. On the instant every chick had vanished. The Child
realized that it was impossible for even such active creatures as they
were to have run away so quickly as all that. So he knew that they had
just made themselves invisible by squatting absolutely motionless among
the twigs and moss which they so exactly resembled in coloring.

The fox, meanwhile, had been gazing around in every direction but the
right one, to try and see where that partridge cry had come from. He
liked partridge, and it was some time since he had had any. All at
once he was surprised and pleased to see a hen partridge, apparently
badly wounded, drop fluttering on the moss almost under his nose. He
sprang forward to seize her, but she managed to flutter feebly out of
his reach. It was obviously her last effort, and he was not in the
least discouraged. She proved, however, to have many such last
efforts, and the last the Child saw of the fox he was still hopefully
jumping at her, as he disappeared from view among the underbrush.
About three minutes later there was a hard whirr of wings, and the
triumphant little mother reappeared. She alighted on the very spot
whence she had first caught sight of the fox, stood for a moment
stiffly erect, while she stared about her with keen, bright eyes, and
then she gave a soft little call. Instantly the chicks were all about
her, apparently springing up out of the ground as at the utterance of a