84 AN ANGLER AT LARGE 



motionless, the stern of a bird which, head buried 

 in weed, obviously supposed itself safe from 

 observation. I felt almost certain that it was 

 not an ostrich, though its manoeuvre lent colour 

 to that belief. To make absolutely sure, I stooped, 

 and, taking a secure grip, extracted a waterhen 

 red bill, yellow legs, and all. I had never hitherto 

 guddled a waterhen, and the experience was highly 

 pleasurable. Having heard that these birds are 

 succulent, I thought once of despatching the 

 thing and placing it in my creel to keep the 

 egg company ; but it lay quite still in my hands, 

 and its frightened eye disarmed me. Also a shrill 

 little squeaking arose from amidst the rushes, and 

 a small black ball with a scarlet neb became 

 visible, oaring furiously away. This was the 

 child of my captive. It caught sight of me and 

 dived, swam six inches under water, rose, squeaked, 

 dived again, and was no more seen. But its tender 

 voice completed the work. If I destroyed its 

 mother it must undoubtedly perish. Probably I 

 was contemplating an infringement of the law- 

 moorhens are just the sort of bird that would be 

 protected. I restored my prey to the water. It 

 dived, and reappeared presently, uttering maternal 

 calls. I wandered on, my heart aglow with the 

 consciousness of a skilful deed and a good action. 

 All this time no sign of Slattery. 



