12 



THE SPRING OF THE YEAR 





died young ones in the family, though I never have 

 counted them. But you might. If you want to try , 

 it, take your small scoop-net of coarse cheesecloth, \ 

 . or mosquito-netting, and go down to the pond this 

 spring. Close along the margin you will see holes ( 

 in the shallow water running up under the over- * 

 hanging grass and roots. The holes were made prob- f">' 

 ably by the muskrats. It is in here that the old J 

 catfish is guarding the brood. 



As soon as you learn to know the holes, you can | 

 cover the entrance with your net, and then by < / 



jumping or stamp- 1 

 " ing hard on the < 

 ground above the < 



^ / hole, you will drive out the old fish with a flop, the $ \ 

 l^family following in a fine, black cloud. The old fish ^ ( 

 j^t will swim away, then come slowly back to the scat- ^ * 

 tered swarm, to the little black things that look like ; ' 

 ; y small tadpoles, who soon cluster about the parent <. ? 

 v , 5 once more and wiggle away into the deep, dark / ' 

 ? water of the pond the strangest family group i : r 

 / ' /that I know in all the spring world. 



