THE KINGFISHER 71 



otter, stoat, or weasel can climb the sheer ascent 

 to the nest ; shoals of silvery minnows wander 

 in the summer sunshine over the shelf of rock, 

 and from the old oak-branch the bird can watch 

 each movement of the tiny fish. 



Once, when I had crept silently into my hiding- 

 place, I saw both parent kingfishers perched on 

 the oak-bough. The mother was calling eagerly, 

 yet persuasively ; and now and again, from the 

 dense shadows beneath the bushes, came a feeble, 

 piping cry. This calling and replying continued 

 at intervals for some time, till an odd-looking 

 fledgling fluttered out from the shadows, and 

 with a mighty effort succeeded in perching dose 

 by its parents. Another youngster followed, 

 and still another, and then the family was com- 

 plete. 



The birds sat in a row with their heads turned 

 up-sfcream. But directly the little ones became 

 familiar with their surroundings, they unusually 

 hungry, perhaps, because of a long absence from 

 their parents sidled along the bough, opened 

 wide their beaks, and with trembling wings 

 begged the old birds for food. One of the 

 parent birds, apparently the male, uttered a 

 low, harsh Jcr-rh, and edged away to the end 

 of the bough. The hen, however, seemed to 

 be questioning and reasoning with her impatient 

 offspring till, one by one, they moved to their 



