e enemy in full flight, a fierce, hot anger
seemed to flare within the mother heron, burning out all the previous
cool, calculating defense. Her wings heaved aloft, as the soldiers of
old threw up their shields in the moment of victory; while her whole
frame seemed to swell with power, like a hero whose fight is won. She
darted after the fisher, first on the run, then with heavy wing beats,
till she headed him and with savage blows of pinion and beak drove him
back, seeing nothing, guided only by fear and instinct, towards the
water. For five minutes more she chevied him hither and yon through the
trampled grass, driving him from water to bush and back again, jabbing
him at every turn; till a rustle of leaves invited him, and he dashed
blindly into thick underbrush, where her broad wings could not follow.
Then with marvelous watchfulness she saw me standing near in my canoe;
and without a thought, apparently, for the young heron lying so still in
the grass close beside her, she spread her torn wings and flapped away
heavily in the path of her more fortunate younglings.

I followed the fisher's trail into the woods and found him curled up in
a hollow stump. He made slight resistance as I pulled him out. All his
ferocity was already lulled to sleep in the vague, dreamy numbness which
Nature always sends to her stricken creatures. He suffered nothing,
apparently, though he was fearfully wounded; he just wanted to be let
alone. Both eyes were gone, and there was nothing left for me except to
finish mercifully what little Quoskh had left undone.

[Illustration]

When September came, and family cares were over, the colony beyond the
beaver pond scattered widely, returning each one to the shy, wild,
solitary life that Quoskh likes best. Almost anywhere, in the loneliest
places, I might come upon a solitary heron stalking frogs, or chumming
little fish, or treading the soft mud expectantly, like a clam digger,
to find where the mussels were hidden by means of his long toes; or
just standing still to enjoy the sleepy sunshine till the late afternoon
came, when he likes best to go abroad.

They slept no more on the big nest, standing like sentinels against the
twilight glow and the setting moon; but each one picked out a good spot
on the shore and slept as best he could on one leg, waiting for the
early fishing. It was astonishing how carefully even the young birds
picked out a safe position. By day they would stand like statu