Nee A ee 
170 THE KINGFISHER. 
it grows a small oak, part of the roots of which are 
bare; the earth and gravel having gradually left 
them, and fallen into the stream below. In the bank 
where these roots are seen, about six feet from the 
surface of the water, is a hole in which a pair of 
kingfishers have had their nest time out of mind. 
They have afforded me the best possible opportu- 
nities of examining their economy; and, from what 
I have seen, I am perfectly satisfied that this pair 
of birds, at least, lives entirely upon fish: I have 
never been able to detect these kingfishers feeding 
either upon snails, or worms, or insects. They 
bring up a fish from the water, crosswise in their 
bills, and then chuck it down their throats head 
foremost. I do not think that they ever eat a fish 
piecemeal: and these birds, with me, never utter 
their ordinary shrill piping succession of notes, 
except when they are on the wing. 
I love to take my stand behind a large tree, and 
watch the kingfisher as he hovers over the water, 
and at last plunges into it, with a velocity like that 
of an arrow from a bow. How we are lost in asto- 
nishment when we reflect that instinct forces this 
little bird to seek its sustenance underneath the 
water ; and that it can emerge from it in perfect 
safety ; though it possesses none of the faculties 
(save that of plunging) which have been so liberally 
granted to most other birds which frequent the 
deep! I sometimes fancy that it is all over with it, 
when I see it plunge into a pond, which I know to 
be well stocked with ravenous pike: still it in- 
