48 NEIGHBOURS UNKNOWN 



long yellow beak darted forth. And the 

 radiant flies, captive and captor together, 

 disappeared. 



But such flimsy fare as even the biggest 

 of butterflies and dragon-flies was not con- 

 tenting to the sharp appetite of the heron. 

 He took one stiff-legged stride forward, and 

 stood in about six inches of water. Here he 

 settled himself in a somewhat altered position, 

 his back more awkwardly hunched, his head 

 held lower, and his dagger of a bill pointing 

 downward. His wicked golden eyes were 

 not indifferent to the possibilities of the air 

 above him, but they were now concerning 

 themselves more particularly with the water 

 which flowed about his feet. 



If any one stands at the brink of a quiet 

 summer stream, and keeps still enough, and 

 watches intently enough, however deserted 

 the landscape may appear, he will see life 

 in many furtive forms go by. The great 

 blue heron kept still enough. The water at 

 this point went softly over a shoal half sand, 

 half mud, and in the faint movement of the 

 clear amber-brown current the sunlight wove 

 a shimmering network on the bottom. Across 

 this darted a shadow. The heron's beak 

 shot downward with an almost inaudible 

 splash, transfixing the shadow, and emerged 



