21 The Amateur Poacher 



stone, now grounding and churning up the bottom, 

 till presently she floated in the bay beneath the firs. 

 There a dark shadow hung over the black water- 

 still and silent, so still that even the aspens rested 

 from their rustling. 



Out again into the sunshine by the wide mouth of 

 the Green River, as the chart named the brook whose 

 level stream scarce moved into the lake. A streak of 

 blue shot up it between the banks, and a shrill pipe 

 came back as the kingfisher hastened away. By the 

 huge boulder of sarsen, whose shoulder projected but 

 a few inches — in stormy times a dangerous rock to 

 mariners — and then into the unknown narrow seas 

 between the endless osier-beds and withy-covered 

 isles. 



There the chart failed ; and the known landmarks 

 across the open waters — the firs and elms, the green 

 knoll with the cattle — were shut out by thick branches 

 on either hand. In and out and round the islets, 

 sounding the depth before advancing, winding now 

 this way, now that, till all idea of the course was lost, 

 and it became a mere struggle to get forward. Droop- 

 ing boughs swept along the gunwales, thick-matted 

 weeds cumbered the way ; ' snags,' jagged stumps of 

 trees, threatened to thrust their tops through the 

 bottom ; and, finally, panting and weary of poling 



