WILD PASTURES 



water with a humorous snort and you 

 will hear little trills of derisive laughter 

 in the song of the stream cascading 

 down the willow root chute. It will be 

 safer not to try him on the three bobs, 

 but wait till the cork begins to bore 

 into the water and glide off across 

 stream, showing that the sunfish has 

 made up his mind that it is a worm, a 

 good one, and one that he really wants. 

 The mother sunfish just at this time 

 of year has her nest in the sand at the 

 upper end of the bar, in shallow water. 

 It is a circular depression which she 

 has scooped out and from which she 

 has carefully removed all pebbles and 

 sticks. Here she has laid her eggs, and 

 here, day and night, she stands guard 

 over them. If any other fish comes 

 along, even of her own kind, she will 

 chase it away with a brustling courage 



