And then, to be sure, they ought to keep in mind the fact concerning that wild dog that had gone back to the habits of its ancestors, preferring to live by hunting, rather than take food from the hand of man. It would be far from pleasant to have old Lion suddenly sneak up on them, and give them a scare.
But everything seemed peaceful around them. Now and then a bird would fly out of a thicket, or give a little burst of song from the branch of some tree. A red-headed woodpecker tapped boisterously on the dead top of a beech near by, trying hard to arouse the curiosity of the worms that lived there, so as to cause them to poke out their heads to see who was so noisy at their front doors; when of course the feathered hammerer stood ready to gobble them up.
"Oh!" gasped Bobolink, when there was a sudden whirring sound of wings, and they had a furtive glimpse of something flashing through the undergrowth near by.
"It's only a partridge; don't be worried!" remarked Phil.
"Sure it was," muttered Bobolink, with scorn; "any fellow with only one eye'd know that now; but all the same, the thing gave me a bad turn, I'm that keyed up."
"And that's a cotton-tail looking at us over yonder, so don't throw another fit when he takes a notion to skip out," Phil continued, pointing with his cudgel to where a rabbit sat, observing the intruders, as though wondering what business any human beings had coming to the island that had been left alone so long.
Presently the little animal skipped off a few paces and then stopped again. As the scouts advanced, it repeated these tactics; indeed, so tame did it seem that any of them could have easily hit the rabbit with a stone, had they felt so inclined, which, as scouts, they could not think of doing.
"Looks like she's got a litter of young ones close by here," said Bobolink; "and is playing lame just to lead us away from the bunch. I've seen rabbits do that before now. The cuteness of the thing! Look at her, would you, just beggin' us to run after, and try to capture her?"
"I've seen a partridge act as if she had a broken wing," Jack remarked, quietly; "and flutter along the ground in a way that couldn't help but make one try to catch her; but if you chased after her, it would be to see the old bird take wing pretty soon, and go off like a rocket."
"Same here," declared Paul; "and going back, I flushed a whole covey of the prettiest little birds you ever saw. They'd been crouching under a bush while the old one played lame; just as if she'd told them all about it. But I heard her calling in the brush later on, and of course she got them all together again."