"Look, Frank," he said, "the corncrake was only shamming death!" The corncrake was on its legs and running away by this time, but Frank fired and killed it.
"I would have let it go for its cunning," he said, "but it would only die with a broken wing. It could not live the winter here, and of course it could not migrate. I have known the water-hen sham death in the same way, and many insects do it. I wonder if that is instinct or reason. How does it know that if it seems dead you will not touch it, and therefore it may get an opportunity to escape?"
"It is very wonderful," said Jimmy; "but you will get no more birds to-day after two shots. They will be too wary. Come with me, and I will show you something equally wonderful."
"What is it?"
"I will not tell you. Wait and see."
They followed him to the shrubbery of Mr. Meredith's garden, and he led them to a laurel-bush, and pointed out to them an upright fungus, creamy white in colour, but not by any means handsome. Dick and Frank bent forward to examine it, when suddenly they clasped their noses between their fingers, and ran away, followed by Jimmy exulting.
"How terrible," said Dick, blowing his nose.
"That is the vilest smell I have ever smelt," said Frank, doing likewise. "What is it?"
"The common stink-horn fungus," answered Jimmy; "I thought you would like to see it."
"We might have liked to see it, but not to smell it. Have not you a nose, Jimmy?"