ming water and the line of tossing, gleaming
floes were half a mile away. In about four minutes the fringe of
tumult was not three hundred yards distant,--and at the same time the
vanguards of the flood, thin, frothy rivulets of chill water, were
trickling in through the crevice where the little prisoner crouched.
As the water touched his feet, the muskrat took heart anew,
anticipating a way of escape. As it deepened he stood upright,--and
instantly the white destruction cruelly watching struck again. This
time the muskrat felt those deadly talons graze the long, loose fur of
his back; and again he cowered down, inviting the flood to cover him.
As much at home under water as on dry land, he counted on easy escape
when the tide came in.

It happens, however, that the little kindreds of the wild are usually
more wise in the general than in the particular. The furry prisoner at
the bottom of the crevice knew about such regular phenomena as the
tides. He knew, too, that presently there would be water enough for
him to dive and swim beneath it, where his dreadful adversary could
neither reach him nor detect him. What he did not take into account
was the way the ice-cakes would grind and batter each other as soon as
the tide was deep enough to float them. Now, submerged till his furry
back and spiky tail were just even with the surface, his little, dark
eyes glanced up with mingled defiance and appeal at the savage, yellow
glare of the wide orbs staring down upon him. If only the water would
come, he would be safe. For a moment his eyes turned longingly toward
the dyke, and he thought of the narrow, safe hole, the long, ascending
burrow, and the warm, soft-lined chamber which was his nest, far up in
the heart of the dyke, high above the reach of the highest tides and
hidden from all enemies. But here in the hostile water, with a cruel
death hanging just above him, his valorous little heart ached with
homesickness for that nest in the heart of the dyke; and though the
water had no chill for his hardy blood, he shivered.

Meanwhile, the long line of clamour was rushing steadily inland. The
roar suddenly crashed into thunder on the prisoner's ears and a rush
of water swept him up. The white owl spread his wings and balanced
himself on tiptoe, as the ice-cake on which he was perching lurched
and rolled. Through all the clamour his ears, miraculously keen beyond
those of other birds, caught an agonized squeak from below. The
jos