THE WATER-HEN 
by the waterside the buds had not yet broken, 
for, although the sun was well above the hori- 
zon, the long pale shadows of the trees lay 
across the place, and the sun would not shine 
upon it fully until nearly noon. But the fine 
March day, with the wind rollicking through 
the tree-tops, made even the Dark 
Pool wholesome and good to live 
in, and the fat tench who lived in 
the mud at the bottom began to 
wake up from their winter lethargy. 
But all that day no other waterbird 
came, except Glasog, the Wagtail, 
who runs where she likes. The river runs 
north and south through the meadows, but a 
quarter of a mile of wood and open grass land 
divides it from the Pool. In still weather the 
roar at the weir can be heard plainly, and 
throughout the day Karruck listened to the 
challenging crowing of other moorhens. In 
the evening he landed and ran along the bank. 
There was a moon for the most part muffled 
in clouds, and a little wind whined through 
the trees. He went up the stream bed to 
where the water trickled sheer over a six-foot 
rock to the slimy green stones underneath. 
At the foot of the cascade there was scarcely 
enough water to wet his red garter-bands, but 
it made a prodigious splash upon the stones, 
j 
