When he went leaping down the hill to the log where he had left his basket, it was with the sickening certainty that some evil had befallen the eggs.

He was afraid to look for fear of finding a mass of broken shells strewn over the ground.

It was with a feeling of surprise that he saw the white ends of the top layer of eggs peeping out of their bed of bran, just as he had left them.

With a sigh of relief he picked up the basket; then whistling gaily as a mockingbird, he set out once more in the direction of Rosehaven..