THE DEVERON 221 



ladies came along the river side, the fish was 

 hauled by main force into a small deep eddy 

 under the steep bank, the rod entrusted to one 

 of the ladies to hold like grim death while the 

 fisher slipped down with the gaff; and so all 

 ended well. 



Above this charming stretch, with its sound 

 of many waters, the scene changes. An ancient 

 and massive dam stretches across the river to 

 impound the water for the needs of the quaint 

 old mill below. Here, then, we find a long and 

 placid pool, fringed on one side with noble trees 

 that dip their lower branches to meet their own 

 pictured shadows in the depths below. 



That corner, where the mass of yellow marsh- 

 marigolds shines golden, reminds us of the reed 

 bunting, with his black velvet cap and white 

 cravat, whose nest cost so much time and pains 

 to find. In the adjoining field a redshank one 

 year nested. As we pass along the water side 

 a moor-hen scuttles off the nest, splashing along 

 in a way not conducive to our sport if on fishing 

 intent ; or, later on, with its quaint upturned 

 tail, leads its family of fuzzy little balls of down 

 and teaches them to pick the insects from the 

 stems of the water-grasses. A 'plop 1 at the 

 edge of the pool and a widening circle on the 

 surface attracts attention, and is found to have 



