A MOUNTAIN POND 99 



blade for cover, holding my glass upon it 

 steadily till a stitch in my side made the at- 

 titude all but intolerable. The lovely bird 

 rode the water in the lightest possible man- 

 ner, and was easily put about by slight puffs 

 of wind; but it could turn upon an insect 

 with lightning quickness. It was never still 

 for an instant except on two occasions, when 

 it came close to the shore and sat motionless 

 in the lee of a log. There it crouched upon 

 its feet, which were still under water, and 

 seemed to be resting. It preened its feath- 

 ers, also, and once it rubbed its bill down 

 with its claw, but the motion was too quick 

 for my eye to follow, though I was near 

 enough to see the nostril with perfect dis- 

 tinctness. 



I was in love with the bird from the first 

 minute. Its tameness, the elegance of its 

 shape and plumage, the grace and vivacity 

 of its movements, these of themselves were 

 enough to drive a bird-lover wild. Add to 

 them its novelty and unexpectedness, and 

 the reader may judge for himself of my 

 state of mind. It was the dearest and tam- 

 est creature I had ever seen, I kept saying 

 to myself, forgetful for the moment of two 



