48 A WOODLAND MURDER. 



opposite. They both passed again, and a few 

 seconds afterwards there was a furious rustling 

 in a dense ivy clad stump and screams from 

 two blackbirds, which scolded and cried louder 

 than I have ever heard them before. I saw one 

 owl pass against the light sky, and, from the 

 dreadful noise the poor blackbirds were making, 

 I could tell that one of their nearly fledged 

 young ones had been taken out of the nest by 

 the owls. Standing in the water in the dark 

 like that it made me feel almost frightened, and 

 although an occasional rise took place, it quite 

 put me off fishing. 



After perhaps five minutes of crying and com- 

 motion all was quiet again, and I supposed the 

 poor birds had got over their trouble. I was 

 just thinking of coming out of the water to reel 

 up when, again, just the shadow of an owl's 

 wings and the same horrible rustling at the 

 blackbirds' nest. This time it seemed worse. 

 I could hear the young birds cheeping between 

 the frantic calFs of the two parents. Both the 

 owls passed up to the taller trees on the left, 

 and the wretched blackbirds quieted down. I 

 was determined to try and stop the owls if they 

 came again, but the trees were too high for a 

 stone to do much good, and before I had 

 decided how even to try they were back at the 

 nest. This time the blackbirds appeared more 

 dazed or frightened, as they cried in now a 

 despairing manner, and from the tearing and 

 scuffling of wings that took place in the ivy I 

 think that the remaining young birds were taken. 



