THE KINGFISHER 159 



stuffed birds pay him well for his crime, and kingfishers 

 grow yearly beautifully less in truth, they are by no 

 means common in the Broadlands. And their nests 

 are rarely found thereabouts, they preferring some dark 

 hole beneath tall trees hiding some small river to open 

 lagoons. 



In the prime of summer-time you may watch the gay little 

 fellow fishing from your boat catching prey all day, giving 

 each fishlet a blow with his powerful bill against the side of 

 the boat, then swallowing it scales and all. Upon one occa- 

 sion one swallowed a small roach too large for him, and he 

 flew in distress towards a neighbouring house-boat, the 

 fish's tail protruding from his mouth, and plainly visible to 

 the members of the household, who ran to his rescue; but 

 on opening the window he flew away, frightened, to die 

 among the willows perchance. But had he only known, 

 he would have been safe ; for the members of the house- 

 boat had rescued one of his kind not long before one 

 who dashed himself against the glass and fell stunned 

 to the deck, but recovered when placed by the fire, and 

 flew off when permitted to fish again, the hero of a new 

 experience. 



Of this quaint bird many legends are told. One old 

 Broadsman points to the brick wall of a decaying boat-house 

 and says, "You see where that brick is all pecked away; 

 them kingfishers did that. They neasted t'ree year running in 

 a hole under that 'ere big gable." Another says, " Ay, lor', 

 they're little warmin bless their little bones ; I have arn't 

 many a half-pint on 'em. They prove knowing birds too 

 ' They'll ketch fish and stow 'em up in rotten wood by the 

 side of the dikes or river till they want 'm ; they arn't all 

 fool." Or another : " Bless 'em, they be clever at cotching 

 fish, but I'm more cleverer than them, for I can cotch 

 them" They are bright little birds, that add a bright note 

 of tropical gorgeousness to our sombre grey winters, and 

 outshine the brightest of our summer birds. Long may 



