She is
looking about to see if the ducklings are all well hidden. After a
moment there is another cluck, very much like the other, and downy
little fellows come bobbing out of the grass, or from close beside the
stumps where you looked a moment before and saw nothing. This is
repeated at frequent intervals, the object being, apparently, to
accustom the young birds to hide instantly when danger approaches.
So watchful is the old bird, however, that trouble rarely threatens
without her knowledge. When the young are well hidden at the first
sign of the enemy, she takes wing and leaves them, returning when
danger is over to find them still crouching motionless in their hiding
places. When surprised she acts like other game birds,--flutters along
with a great splashing, trailing one wing as if wounded, till she has
led you away from the young, or occupied your attention long enough
for them to be safely hidden; then she takes wing and leaves you.
The habit of hiding becomes so fixed with the young birds that they
trust to it long after the wings have grown and they are able to
escape by flight. Sometimes in the early autumn I have run the bow of
my canoe almost over a full-grown bird, lying hidden in a clump of
grass, before he sprang into the air and away. A month later, in the
same place, the canoe could hardly approach within a quarter of a mile
without his taking alarm.
Pages:
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69