68 By Leafy Ways. 



Now one of the old birds, standing on a little higher 

 ground than the others, his long crest clearly defined 

 against the sky, catches sight of the boat that with 

 noiseless oars glides gently down the stream. Hardly 

 waiting long enough for us to see the bronze green of 

 his burnished wings he rises into the air with his 

 familiar cry not with the anxious solicitude of April, 

 when with every device of feigned lameness or 

 broken wing he sought to lure away the passing 

 shepherd from the eggs or young on the bare ground 

 near by ; but idly wheeling on his broad and 

 rustling wings over the next hedge to seek quiet 

 further on. 



The young birds, not yet familiar with mankind, 

 and ignorant of the far-reaching powers of powder, 

 linger awhile, but at length they too take wing and 

 follow their elders broad dashes of black and white 

 against the bright August sky. 



At the edge of the field, where the shore descends 

 steeply to the river, the bank is honeycombed with 

 sand-martins' nests. 



It is a marvel how such soft billed and feeble birds 

 can cut their way even into this yielding material. 

 Having found, by experiment no doubt, which layer is 

 the easiest to work, they drive their tunnels to a depth 

 of from two to as much as six feet, or even more, 

 straight into the bank. Not seldom has the working 

 to be abandoned from the hardness of the soil ; but 

 when a suitable length is reached a slight nest is built 



