The Kingfisher 67 
To the log-cock in the forest 
Man's advances bring disaster ; 
To the phoebe and the bluebird 
Farms are full of friendly shelter ; 
To the hawk the shotgun preaches, 
Grouse the hunter keeps in peril, 
But to this fierce water tyrant 
All man's comings, stayings, goings, 
Count for less than south wind whispers. 
Count for nothing, pass unnoticed. 
Proud, defiant, strong-winged, fearless, 
All his daily needs supplied him. 
Air and water, sand and fishes ; 
Given these and naught else needs he. 
So he was in days unnumbered, 
Days before man trod the forest. 
Days before the thin ash-paddle 
Cleft the waters of the Bearcamp ; 
Days when mighty glaciers, melting, 
Made the lakes, which bred the rivers ; 
Days when great Chocorua's profile 
Slept unknown beneath Arcturus. 
