THE SPAWN 15 



above them. Suddenly she looked tired. 

 There was noticeable now a leanness of 

 body, a weariness about the heavy cartilage 

 of her mouth. Her eyes were spent. 

 Through them she surveyed the little ones, 

 and sadly, as though the moment of farewell 

 occasioned a wordless regret. Anxiety was 

 there too, as if she hesitated to leave them 

 unprotected in a life so full of peril. 



A minute passed, while mother surveyed 

 her tiny spawn. Then a soft wind moved on 

 the face of the waters. Tiny wavelets 

 riffled the surface and broke in soft 

 cadence on the pebbly shore. 



It was a call, a signal to the cool feeding 

 grounds. From the mother bass the droop 

 disappeared, weariness vanished. She 

 seemed to knit together with a growing 

 energy. She lifted nearer the surface, 

 swung about and headed out. The opening 

 and closing of gills, a flash of the supple 

 caudal fin, and she was gone. 



She had said farewell, leaving her little 

 ones to grow and develop according to the 

 form and purpose determined for them by 

 nature, the great mother of us all. 



