CHAPTER II 



THE KINGFISHER AND ITS HOME 



ID IGHT up in the corner of a 

 beautiful lake there was a little 

 creek. The water came in here through 

 a thick bed of reeds ; straggling bushes 

 stood up high over the water ; one small 

 tree had fallen down and some of the 

 branches were submerged, while others, 

 dead and leafless, were entwined with 

 strings of honeysuckle. Each side of 

 the small creek there was a low bank, 

 overgrown with grasses and nettles. 

 Wild Ducks were splashing in the water, 

 making it muddy all around them. A 

 Little Grebe was every few minutes 

 giving out its loud rattling cry, and out 

 on the lake the harsher notes of the 



