348 EDGE OF THE JUNGLE 



hungry throats, and every youngster within reach 

 scrambled wildly forward, hopeful of a fish 

 course. They received but scant courtesy and 

 usually a vicious peck tumbled them off the 

 branch. I saw a young bird fall to the water, 

 and this mishap was from no attack, but due to 

 his tripping over his own feet, the claws of one 

 foot gripping those of the other in an insane 

 clasp, which overbalanced him. He fell through 

 a thin screen of vines and splashed half onto a 

 small Regia leaf. With neck and wings he strug- 

 gled to pull himself up, and had almost suc- 

 ceeded when heron and leaf sank slowly, and 

 only the bare stem swung up again. A few bub- 

 bles led off in a silvery path toward deeper water, 

 showing where a crocodile swam slowly off with 

 his prey. 



For a time the birds remained still, and then 

 crept within the tangles, to their mates or nests, 

 or quieted the clamor of the young with warm- 

 storage fish. How each one knew its own off- 

 spring was beyond my ken, but on three separate 

 evenings scattered through one week, I observed 

 an individual, marked by a wing-gap of two lost 

 feathers, come, within a quarter-hour of six 

 o'clock, and feed a great awkward youngster 



