WILD LIFE ON THE WING 
quietly before a heavy but soft footfall which 
he heard approaching dowri the bed of the 
stream. It was long since the Pool had been 
honoured by a visit from such a hunter. The 
youngest chick, skulking among the water- 
cresses, thought at first that it was the fox, but 
the stranger plunged into the water gleefully 
and half swam, half waded along the edge. 
All previous danger had threatened from the 
bank . . . the chick did not understand this 
new manoeuvre, and scuttled inshore. Cearc- 
uise suddenly broke out with piteous cries. 
She was of the river, and knew who it was that 
hunted after this fashion. 
One chick lost his wits and, instead of lying 
still, paddled from one reed tussock to another. 
Instantly the otter leaped like a salmon, and 
caught him before he could dive. The splash 
set the water breaking and splashing up the 
mud banks. The otter had only paused to 
drink at the Pool on his way from a distant 
stream to the river. Of course, one chick was 
nothing to his appetite, but he was full-fed 
already, and now merely hunted for sport. 
The moorhen-kind have been made free of the 
air-, earth-, and waterways. The airways are 
a matter of wings, the earthways are a matter 
of legs, but the waterways depend almost 
entirely upon lungs. The runt-chick dived as 
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