A TWILIGHT IDYLL. 113 



the river bank, on the very edge of the water, and but an 

 inch or two above it. Backwards and forwards he takes 

 his silent flight, neither pausing nor resting. 



As the gloom deepens the colours of the redstarts seem 

 gradually to fade away : so that it would be difficult to dis- 

 tinguish between the birds and the bat, but for the fact 

 that the latter never rises to the height of a yard above the 

 surface of the water. 



It has for some time been too dark for the human eye to 

 distinguish such minute objects as flies, yet the activity of 

 the redstarts shows no signs of abatement. Their numbers 

 certainly seem to have diminished ; but this may not be the 

 case. In the fading light none but the nearest can be 

 seen. 



A huge owl glides overhead, and settles on the bare 

 branch of a tree. This he does in grim silence. Once 

 settled, he remains moody and motionless, looking down 

 upon the water, uttering not a sound. Surely now the 

 redstarts will retire for the night? The bulbuls and the 

 wagtail have long since disappeared. But no, the diligent 

 little birds still dash about from boulder to boulder, evident- 

 ly anxious not to lose a moment of the precious daylight. 

 ***** 



All the redstarts have now flown away, save one a 

 water-robin. He settles upon a stone, and for the space of 

 three minutes gazes at the running water which surrounds 

 him. His air is pensive. He still flirts his tail, but in a 

 slow and gentle manner. " Alas ! " he seems to say, " it 

 has grown too dark ; I, also, must go to rest." Then he 

 flies away, leaving the stream to the denizens of the night. 



PRINTED AT THE " TIMES OF INDIA " PRESS 



