Daily globe. [volume] (St. Paul, Minn.) 1878-1884, 1883-11-30

it does iiotfollow that Tresor had to seize
her
Ny. father wanted TO put the quail i'll his
game bag, but begged him to give her to
me- placed her in lny two hands and
warmed her with my breath, hoping to bring
her back to lie again; hutshe did not stir.
''You waste your tin1e,' said my father.
s'You can't revive her. Don't you see how
her head IS droopingT'
tenderly raised her head by the bill, but
as soon as | let go it would fall back
\ ''Do you pity her ST muehsH asked my IA
! Their again.
"Who viii feed her voungT' replied
Ny father looked az me attentively.
Don't worry about that" he said, ''the
male bird. the father, will feed them. But
listen! There's Tresor pointing again! Per-
haps its the nest! 1t is"
In fact, among the stalks of some tall grass,
two feet in front of Tresor's snout, per-
ceived four little quailS nestled close together
and with outstretched necks. They breathed so
quickly thought they We're trembling all
over. They had already little feathers; only
their tails were still very short.
e'PPapa, Papar' cried, ''call back the dog ;
he'll kill them toor'
My father recalled Tresor and prepared to
sit down little way off under bush to eat
some lunch. | remained close by the nest
and refused to eat pulled from my pocket
a white handkerchief, upon which 1 placed
the quail. Look, poor orphaned little ones
There's your faotherl She has sacrificed
herself for YOU The young birds seemed to
breathe more rapidly when 1 said it, and
their little bodies seemel to treI1ble still
more violently.
went TO where nav father sat.
''Nin you make me d present Of this
quailn I asked.
''If it gives you any pleasure, of course.
But what are you going to do with her?'
II am going to bury her."
BURY her!'
eyes, there; right close to the nest. Give
me your knife so can dig her little grave"
''You expect the young to go and pray on
the grave, supposeg' suggested my father
i'll establishment.
"No,' L replied; ''but tie thought pleases
me. She belongs there, close to her nest"
Without adding another word my father
looked for his knife and handed it TO me. L
set to work at once to dig the little hole. I
pressed kiss upon my quairs breast and
placed her gently in her grave, and then 1
filed it with earth. l cut two sticks, and
after removing the bark made a cross by
tying them together with some dry blades of
grass; and this placed upon the grave.
We started soon af,eryvs.rd to go home.
At each step l turned to look back. The
cross was white and could see it far off,
That night I had dream. 1t seemed to
me was in heaven and there, perched upon
a tiny little cloud, saw my quail-the very
same quail had buried in the morning. only
she was all white like the cross on her grave.
Around her head halo of gold spread its
lustre: no doubt l thought, a reward for
what she had suffered for the sake of her
children.
Five or six days after I returned in COM
pany with my father to the grave. The cross
had become a little more yellow, but had re-
manned in its place. The nest, however, was
empty; not trace of the little ones was left.
My father assured me that the male bird had
carried them elsewhere. Indeed, at that
very moment, only few steps from where
we stood, the little male flew out of a bush;
and my father forebore to fire at hin-and /,
l said 10 myself: ''No, no; papa is not bad"
Strange to say, from that day my love for
hunting left me completely, and l never even
thought of the gun which my father had
promised me. Later, it is true. when had
become man, | took to hunting, too, but
never was a true sportsman.
One day was hunting with a friend Of
mine. We soon came upon some grouse
The mother bird rose and we fired. She was
wounded, but did not fall, and got away
with her young. 1 proposed following them.
'Let us remain here" my friend said.
owen initiate their cry and the whole flock
viii return before long"
My companion knew well how to initiate
the call Of these birds. We seated ourselves
among the bushes and my friend began his
tactics. At first a young grouse answered,
then another, and before long the mother
herself quite close to us replied in subdued
and soft voice. 1 raised my head and saw
her approach through the grass with all
possible speed. Her breast was covered with
blood. The instincts Of a mother were
prompting her; she evidently wished to
divert our attention. At that moment 1
seemed to myself a monster of cruelty
+ 1 rose and clapped my hands. The
mother flew away and the young at once be-
came silent. My companion was furious;
he looked at me like mailman.
''You have spoiled our entire sport, he
said.
But from that day on, to kill, to shed
blood. became more and more painful to me.