140 ON SURREY HILLS. 



parents. Again the cries are heard ; three noiseless 

 forms pass overhead and settle on the white limbs 

 of the old beech ; one large bird and two young 

 ones are there. Passing close to the trunk, we peer 

 up at them very cautiously. The two young birds 

 are on one limb, where they chatter together in owl 

 fashion ; the old owl perches on a limb directly over 

 the shallowest part of the river. Fish are working 

 about — roach probably, for their sides flash silver, 

 as they scuttle over the pebbles of the ford. I 

 chance to tread on a little twig — it snaps ; there is 

 only the slightest sound, but they hear it. Instantly 

 their heads and bodies are erect like those of soldiers, 

 looking half their usual size, for when alarmed their 

 feathers are drawn close to the body. Finding that 

 nothing ensues after the snapping of the twig, they 

 settle down as before, the young ones softly whining 

 to each other. The old bird now begins to sway to 

 and fro, the head moving round first one way and 

 then another. There is a flash of fish on the pebbles ; 

 down drops the owl and fixes one. The water flies 

 in showers of sparkling drops as the fish make for 

 deeper water, whilst the one captured kicks vigor- 

 ously. No chance of escape: the owl grasps the 



