A WINGED FISHERMAN. 129 



Had I done so, I should have found an 

 orifice from three to six feet long, extending 

 straight in, or perhai3s at a slight angle, with 

 the nest at the end, occupied by six or seven 

 baby kingfishers. Besides the little birds, there 

 would very likely have been a number of bones 

 of fishes in the nest which the old bird had 

 swallowed and then disgorged in the form of 

 pellets. 



Many, many times I have seen this agile 

 fisherman sitting quietly on a dead branch ex- 

 tending out over a stream. There he would 

 sit and watch until some unfortunate fish came 

 in sight in the water below, when, as quick as 

 a flash, he would dart down after it and grab 

 it in his strono; beak before the fish could 

 collect its wits. His prey secured, the bird 

 would fly away to some safe place and swal- 

 low its scaly prize. 



Some time ago I read a story which proves 

 that this bird, wily as it is, sometimes does 

 not act as wisely as you would expect. It was 

 a rather cold day, so the story goes, and a coat- 

 ino- of ice had been formed on the ponds and 

 streams. A kingfisher was seen sitting quietly 

 on a branch overhanging a pond, when sud- 

 denly it dropped from its perch and dashed 

 into the water below. The spectator expected 



