32 BIRD LIFE ON ISLAND AND SHORE 
fit them for the struggle of life. Their senses 
must be sharpened from birth; they must be 
bred to mastery of their environment. I believe 
myself no compassion need be wasted over these 
free creatures of an underworld to ours. Within 
a narrower pale their lives are probably happier 
than those of men. Man has not yet stepped into 
his kingdom to come; he is still imperfectly 
adapted to his surroundings. 
In front of my screen, extending far up the 
river-bed, lay a narrow stretch of shallow water, 
a backwater of the main stream. Warm, safe, 
and calm, it was a favourite playground of the 
little Stilts. There, about the size of walnuts 
and buoyant as corks, they loved to disport 
themselves. This water, usually so calm, had 
now a big ripple on it; clouds had come up from 
the south; a dry gale was blowing grit and sand 
in clouds along the whole river-bed. In some 
way or other one of the chicks had got into this 
water space, and was being blown towards the 
junction of backwater with main stream. The 
male, now for the first time entirely regardless 
of my presence, began to show his anxiety in 
agitated flight and yapping cries; the hen, catch- 
ing his alarm and leaving her straw and two 
eggs, presently joined him. Quite evidently they 
realised that the chick was being carried towards 
the river, big and dangerous. The passage from 
