114 THE BROOK BOOK 



afterwards that in this way they capture the smaller 

 insects which fly above them. 



It was not until after several experiences with 

 water-striders that I discovered their shadows. The 

 shadow of a water-strider does not attend its owner 

 closely, nor does it in the least resemble the author 

 of its existence. Instead of being a rather vague 

 representation of a long-legged bug, it looks far 

 more like three pairs of eye-glasses, bobbing about 

 at the bottom of the water. Nothing could be 

 more fascinating than these six oval shadows out- 

 lined in white light, like silver -rimmed spectacles. 

 As the water-strider skates across a sunlit space, 

 his shadow moves, disappears, returns in a new 

 place, rests, then darts out of existence as its 

 owner is lost in the shade of the bank. 



Water-striders have a family of cousins which 

 are often seen in similar situations. These are 

 smaller and have much shorter, stouter legs than 

 the water-striders. The cousins are of a very ad- 

 venturous turn and often take long journeys by 

 land. Your true water-strider has plenty of wings 

 which he can use if necessary to seek a new home, 

 but he does not journey for mere restlessness or 

 love of travel. 



In our very sluggish streams where water plants 

 abound, dwell also the weird, wiry marsh -treaders. 

 These are but distantly related to the water-striders. 

 They can hardly be said to skate, as their move- 

 ments are slow, awkward and weak. The marsh- 

 treader creeps over the surface of the water and 

 among the rank vegetation. None but the sharp- 



