A PANIC ON THE MAR^Jl. 171 



tion, that made him appear so unamiable. In- 

 deed, I do not see how it could be otherwise, 

 after his exciting life. And may that not explain 

 the fact that when the young are grown, the 

 singer shakes off all family ties and joins a 

 flock of his comrades, while mother and young 

 remain together? Since he insists on taking 

 his family responsibilities so hard, he cannot be 

 blamed for desiring a rest for part of the year. 



Now that the nest was deserted and the young- 

 were always going about with their mother, I 

 wondered that the head of the family did not 

 relax his vigilance over the meadow and abandon 

 his two watch-towers ; but save that his enticing 

 song came up to me oftener than his cries of 

 distress, his habits were not materially altered. 

 One day, when I thought his summer troubles 

 ought surely to be over, a fresh anxiety came 

 to him. Several women and girls, with a dog, 

 appeared on the marsh, which at low tide was in 

 some parts explorable. The human members of 

 the party amused themselves with bathing and 

 wading in the now shallow stream ; but the dog 

 acted like one gone mad, dashing about on those 

 peaceful flats where so many birds were enjoying 

 themselves quietly, rushing full gallop from one 

 group to another, wading or swimming the wind- 

 ing stream every time he came to it, and barking 

 at the top of his voice every instant. Birds rose 



