MARCH 347 
a dead branch overhanging the water, crest erect, gazing 
into the water and on the alert for a fish to pass, the 
scene at once becomes full of interest. Of course the 
Kingfisher, as his name implies, is above all a fisherman, 
and complaints come sometimes from those who are 
stocking ponds and rivers with fish, and who object to 
his taking his tithe, but when pressed by hunger through 
the sudden skimming of their hunting ponds with ice 
in early winter, he has been known to eat berries of 
many kinds, and in time of drought when streams run 
low or dry up entirely, the Kingfisher will feed upon 
beetles, grasshoppers, crickets, frogs, lizards, etc. But 
here in the East, at any rate, the bird is not plentiful 
enough to be a danger to the fishing industry.” 
“T’ve seen a Kingfisher fishing in the salt-water creek 
that goes into the bay. We camped right there on the 
point last summer,” said Tommy. “He must have 
lived up the river somewhere, for he used to come down 
early in the morning, and stay about all day, and I sup- 
pose he must have got through feeding his children, for 
it was along in August. I never saw but one,— the male, 
I guess, because it didn’t have any brown on its breast 
like what there is in the picture of the female. 
“It was great fun to watch him. One day the rest 
all went off fishing to Middle Ground Light, and I stayed 
at home because I’d cut my finger with a fish-hook, and it 
hurt a lot, and the Doctor made me keep it soaking in 
medicine, so I just lay in the sand under the shady side 
of the tent, only moving enough to keep out of the sun, 
and watched out. 
“When the Kingfisher first came, the tide was just 
