396 BIRD LIFE AT BINGHAM'S MELCOMBE 



her lovely feathers. On leaving or entering her 

 hole, she perches, for a minute or two, on a favourite 

 branch of a tree just outside, which hangs over the 

 stream ; and there, if you have been fortunate 

 enough to hide yourself sufficiently from her bright 

 and piercing eyes, you may watch all that is going 

 on. She will, perhaps, preen herself for a moment 

 or two though her feathers seem to need no preen- 

 ing and then wait patiently for the ripple made 

 by some small fish in the stream below. Down 

 she plunges, head-foremost, into the water, glancing 

 in the sunbeam, as she disappears. She hardly ever 

 misses her prey, and, within two seconds, she 

 reappears, glistening even more than before, with 

 the water-drops spangling her feathers, and the 

 silver sheen of the minnow, struggling but safely 

 lodged, in her large bill. A few blows upon its head 

 against the branch below serve to kill or stun it. 

 With a jerk of her head, she throws it down her 

 throat, and then is off, up or down stream, to her 

 next favourite perch. 



If you have managed to hide successfully, take 

 care never to show yourself till the bird is well out 

 of sight, or she will be on the look-out for you in 

 your lurking-place when she returns, and you will 

 see little more. Always remember that it is not 



