200 BIRDS OF THE WAVE AND WOODLAND 



regular path to points where he can sHp into the water 

 quietly. If he were to jump in off his doorstep he would 

 make a splash : a great indiscretion in a water-rat. So he 

 toddles off to the right or the left as his fancy takes him, till 

 he comes to a conveniently shelving place where he can take 

 to water without noise. 



Under that green moss-furred root, over which his path- 

 way so clearly goes, is the kingfisher's nest. The hole runs 

 in straight for about three feet, and at the end is " the nest," 

 and the little birds sitting in it can tell by the stoppage of the 

 lioht at the entrance that father or mother has come back with 

 a fish, and they hurry forward, crouching low, with out- 

 stretched necks (for the tunnel is only three inches high), to 

 get the food first. So the strongest or hungriest gets fed 

 first, and when it has had enough it stays behind when the 

 next race to the opening takes place, and the weaker or lazier 

 take their turns till all are satisfied. And this is the simple 

 explanation of that which so often puzzles people — '* How do 

 the old birds know that all the \T^ung ones have been fed ? 

 can they count, or do they know them all one from the 



other ? " 



No, they cannot count, and they do not know one from 



another. If you watch a bird at a nest, it gives the food 



to the nearest mouth : it never picks and chooses. But young 



birds know when they have had enough — for the present. 



If you are feeding a young bird you have taken from the nest, 



