c laden with its poison fruit.

A month ago she would have passed it by, but now she tried the
unattractive berries. The acrid burning juice seemed to answer some
strange demand of her body; she ate and ate, and all her family joined
in the strange feast of physic. No human doctor could have hit it
better; it proved a biting, drastic purge, the dreadful secret foe was
downed, the danger passed. But not for all--Nature, the old nurse, had
come too late for two of them. The weakest, by inexorable law, dropped
out. Enfeebled by the disease, the remedy was too severe for them. They
drank and drank by the stream, and next morning did not move when the
others followed the mother. Strange vengeance was theirs now, for
a skunk, the same that could have told where Runtie went, found and
devoured their bodies and died of the poison they had eaten.

Seven little partridges now obeyed the mother's call. Their individual
characters were early shown and now developed fast. The weaklings were
gone, but there were still a fool and a lazy one. The mother could not
help caring for some more than for others, and her favorite was the
biggest, he who once sat on the yellow chip for concealment. He was not
only the biggest, strongest, and handsomest of the brood, but best of
all, the most obedient. His mother's warning 'rrrrr' (danger) did
not always keep the others from a risky path or a doubtful food, but
obedience seemed natural to him, and he never failed to respond to her
soft 'K-reet' (Come), and of this obedience he reaped the reward, for
his days were longest in the land.

August, the Molting Moon, went by; the young ones were now three parts
grown. They knew just enough to think themselves wonderfully wise. When
they were small it was necessary to sleep on the ground so their mother
could shelter them, but now they were too big to need that, and the
mother began to introduce grownup ways of life. It was time to roost in
the trees. The young weasels, foxes, skunks, and minks were beginning
to run. The ground grew more dangerous each night, so at sundown Mother
Partridge called 'K-reet,' and flew into a thick, low tree.

The little ones followed, except one, an obstinate little fool who
persisted in sleeping on the ground as heretofore. It was all right that
time, but the next night his brothers were awakened by his cries. There
was a slight scuffle, then stillness, broken only by a horrid sound
of crunching bones and a smacking of