Nibble digs Bob White’s mother out of the bank
Soon his little claws almost refused to move. But he wouldn’t let them stop! Then the “Whit!” sounded almost in his ear. Now his feet fairly flew of themselves for a dozen strokes and—Victory! A weak little bunch of brown feathers burst through the clay wall. And he backed out and helped Mother Quail to the cool fresh air outside the hole.
Nibble saw the quail all crowd around her, smoothing her ruffled feathers, loosening the dirt that was caked into them, and making little soft noises of delight that she was safe again. Then gradually he didn’t see anything at all. He had come as near fainting as any wild thing ever does except Mister Possum, who mostly pretends, and scary little Keree the Rail. He had fallen into a sound sleep.
When he awoke he felt something tugging his ears. He opened his eyes and lay still, oh, so comfortable and warm. But the tugging kept up until he shook his head. Then Bob White whispered softly: “Come on, Nibble. Our Watch Bird has signalled that Slyfoot the Mink is swimming this way. We must hide.”
So Nibble sat up, very stiff and sore. And he found why he had been so snug. Little quail were cuddled all around him. One by one they took their heads from under their wings, shook themselves, and got ready to fly. And overhead in the darkness he could hear the Quails’ Watch Bird giving the hurry call. When he looked hard he could see the bird craning his neck against the dusky sky.
So he shook himself, too, and followed Bob White as he led the flock in and out of the bushes. Pretty soon Bob gave a low whispering whistle and the birds took wing. “Make a triangle, Nibble, over to the top of that log and then jump where you hear me call,” he said.
So Nibble limped off past the log, turned back on his trail and dragged himself up on it. My but he was tired. He almost fell asleep once more out in that cold wind. But Bob’s whistle waked him again. He jumped and found his legs all tangled in a wild grape vine.
That set Bob laughing softly. “It’s too bad,” he said, “but you see I forgot you couldn’t perch like a bird.”
But Nibble didn’t mind. He just kicked and wriggled until he tumbled to the ground and the blanket of little quail closed around him again.