Then Freckles scattered his store. At once the ground resembled the
spread mantle of Montezuma, except that this mass of gaily colored
feathers was on the backs of living birds. While they feasted, Duncan
gripped his wife's arm and stared in astonishment; for from the bushes
and dry grass, with gentle cheeping and queer, throaty chatter, as if to
encourage each other, came flocks of quail. Before anyone saw it arrive,
a big gray rabbit sat in the midst of the feast, contentedly gnawing a
cabbage-leaf.

"Weel, I be drawed on!" came Mrs. Duncan's tense whisper.

"Shu-shu," cautioned Duncan.

Lastly Freckles removed his cap. He began filling it with handfuls of
wheat from his pockets. In a swarm the grain-eaters arose around him as
a flock of tame pigeons. They perched on his arms and the cap, and in
the stress of hunger, forgetting all caution, a brilliant cock cardinal
and an equally gaudy jay fought for a perching-place on his head.

"Weel, I'm beat," muttered Duncan, forgetting the silence imposed on his
wife. "I'll hae to give in. 'Seein' is believin'. A man wad hae to see
that to believe it. We mauna let the Boss miss that sight, for it's a
chance will no likely come twice in a life. Everything is snowed under
and thae craturs near starved, but trustin' Freckles that complete they
are tamer than our chickens. Look hard, bairns!" he whispered. "Ye winna
see the like o' yon again, while God lets ye live. Notice their color
against the ice and snow, and the pretty skippin' ways of them! And
spunky! Weel, I'm heat fair!"

Freckles emptied his cap, turned his pockets and scattered his last