MAT IN BROADLAND. 53 



seem to think their efforts praiseworthy. But they are appropriate to the scenery 

 around, as are the harsh notes of the grebes and waterfowl. The reed-bunting 

 and the sedgewarbler, and many another of their kindred from over-sea are present 

 with us ; some are flitting in among the branches of the trees which border the 

 mossy swamps that margin the Broad, others are busy in among the remnant of 

 reed-stems seeking a location for safe nesting. Many are already engrossed with 

 the cares of domestic life. 



We pull round a bend in the interminable reed-bed, and find ourselves in a 

 quiet corner of the Broad. It is a veritable little ' straits,' connecting this one 

 with another. Willows are reflecting their pointed leaves in its depths, reeds and 

 sedges in its sunny recesses are growing more luxuriantly than in the open Broad. 

 A ricketty foot-bridge spans the farther end and on it is sitting a hawk-like bird, 

 which presently takes to flight. Its ringing notes betray its identity; it is a 

 cuckoo. Some lapwings pass overhead : they are nesting in an adjacent meadow. 



Hush ! do you not see that big brown creature sitting beside a bank on a 

 boulder of grass-fringed soil that has broken away from it ? It is an otter. Grently ! 

 Just peep at him through these glasses. He is busy at dinner : that fish he appears 

 enjoying so much is undoubtedly a tench. The otter knows where good fish and 

 quietude are to be had. There now he has spied us, and with the slightest effort, 

 and without a splash, he has dived into the water, and will not come up until he 

 has reached his lair in some rush-covered corner. House-martins and swallows are 

 dashing to and fro, as they have been all day long. Here they appear to be especi- 

 ally busy, for many a lace- winged fly is taking its earliest springtime airing; and 

 larvae cases floating upon the surface of the water are familiar objects to the lynx- 

 eyed naturalist. There is a shoal of small gudgeon; they are feasting merrily upon 

 heedless little insects which appear to delight in touching the water in their joy- 

 ous play: gnats and midges are among the number. There goes, high overhead, 

 a swift and another. Hearken to their wild screaming ! 



Don't you see that moorhen peering out from behind that willow bole ? He 

 has a nest somewhere close by it, let us paddle up and see if we can find it. The 

 cunning thing has vanished, but here is its inartificial nest : it is made of reed- 

 flags and sedges matted together. Nine bufnsh-white eggs dotted with red-brown 

 contain the fondest hopes of most attentive parents. A faint peepy cry emanates 

 from among them. Why ! one egg is chipping, and a tiny pair of red mandibles 

 are poking their way into a world of trouble. If half of those black downy chicks, 

 which will soon be demanding incessant care and attention, escape the onslaughts 

 of pike and a host of other enemies, they will do well. 



