36 BESIDE THE MARSH. 
out behind him. Next a marsh hawk in 
brown plumage comes skimming over the 
grass. ‘This way and that he swerves in ever 
graceful lines. For one to whom ease and 
grace come by nature, even the chase of 
meadow mice is an act of beauty, while an- 
other goes awkwardly though in pursuit of a 
goddess. 
Several times I have noticed a kingfisher 
hovering above the grass (so it looks, but no 
doubt he is over an arm of the creek), strik- 
ing the air with quick strokes, and keeping 
his head pointed downward, after the manner 
of a tern. Then he disappeared while I was 
looking at something else. Now I remark 
him sitting motionless upon the top of a post 
in the midst of the marsh. 
A third blue heron appears, and he too 
flies over without stopping. Number One 
still keeps his place; through the glass | can 
see him dressing his feathers with his clumsy 
beak. The lively strain of a white-eyed vireo, 
pertest of songsters, comes to me from some- 
where on my right, and the soft chipping of 
myrtle warblers is all but incessant. I look 
up from my paper to see a turkey buzzard 
sailing majestically northward. I watch him 
