ALONG THE WATERWAYS 47 



"The other pond's different deeper, steeper 

 banks, more bushed up. I always thought this one 

 was just a low meadow not so long ago. The 

 bottom 's soft, and there is n't a hole in it deep 

 'nough to hold a two -pound pickerel. King- 

 fishers don't like to dive in it neither, and that 's 

 a sure sign of shallow water and soft bottom. But 

 green herons like it here, and quawks and great 

 blue cranes, but they 're more in the frogging line 

 o' business." 



A foot-path coming from the woods followed the 

 margin of the second pond at the distance of a 

 yard or so, winding and curving around the minia- 

 ture bays and inlets until ten feet of headway meant 

 thirty of meanderings. This is one of the illusions 

 by which the waterways beguile us into thinking, 

 as we follow the voice that travels on before, that 

 we are covering vast areas; whereas, after wander- 

 ing about a whole morning, discovering each mo- 

 ment new treasures of the eye and ear, we find that 

 we have progressed only a mile or so, measuring by 

 the direction of the straight highroad. 



Between the path and the pond -edge shot up 

 stiff plants of the Arrowhead, with their arum -like 

 leaves and spikes of fragile, white, tripetaled flow- 

 ers, quite as pleasing to the eye as many of the 



