380 Wild Life in a Southern County. 
I recollect walking by a brook like this, and seeing 
the blue plumage of a kingfisher perched on a bush. 
I swung my gun round ready to shoot as soon as he 
should fly, but the bird sat still and took no notice of 
my approach. Astonished at this—for the kingfisher 
sat in such a position as easily to see anyone coming; 
and these birds generally start immediately they per- 
ceive a person—I walked swiftly up opposite the 
bush. The bird remained on the bough. I put out the 
barrel of my gun and touched his ruddy breast with 
the muzzle: he fell on the ice below. He had been 
frozen on his perch during the night, and probably 
died more from starvation than from cold, since it 
was impossible for him to get at any fish. 
More than once afterwards the same winter I 
found kingfishers dead on the ice under bushes, lying 
on their backs with their contracted claws uppermost, 
having fallen dead from roost. Possibly the one 
found on the branch may have been partly supported 
by some small twig. 
That winter snow afterwards fell and became 
a few inches thick, drifting in places to-several feet. 
Then it was the turn of the other birds and animals 
to feel the pain of starvation. In the meadows the 
tracks of rabbits crossed and recrossed till the idea 
of following their course had to be abandoned. At 
first sight it seemed as if the snow had suddenly re- 
vealed the presence of a legion of rabbits where 
previously no one had suspected the existence of more 
