A correspondent obliges us with the following: ‘Having read the “Story
of a Partridge and her Chicks,” which appeared in your _Journal_ of
October 6, 1877, I can fully concur with the writer regarding the
strong attachment the partridge has for her young.
‘When spending a few holidays in the Highlands last summer, I was
witness of a somewhat similar incident. Accompanying the worthy farmer
with whom I was staying to the hayfield one morning, the reapers
discovered a partridge sitting on her eggs right in the way of their
scythes. As they could not proceed without her being removed, the
farmer gently lifted her and placed the eggs one by one in his hat, to
carry them to a place of safety; the poor bird meanwhile being in great
distress, watching every movement with fluttering wings and palpitating
heart, thinking, no doubt, we intended robbing her. No sooner had she
seen the last egg safely removed, than, with a cry of delight, she flew
on to his shoulder, and leaping down on the hat containing her eggs,
carefully spread her feathers, and remained sitting upon them till
they were placed out of all danger under one of the hayricks. On going
to see how she fared in her new abode in the evening, we were greatly
surprised to see her surrounded by a numerous and interesting family.
‘This bird continued about the farm all the time the brood remained
by her, and at last got so tame that she would feed with the poultry.
But alas! Puss made sad havoc among her chicks, only seven out of the
twenty-three which were hatched coming to maturity. Whenever they got
the use of their wings, they disappeared, and have probably ere this
time gone the way of all flesh.’