er heels into the water. In
my fright I let go my rod, but instinctively held out my hands to grasp
whatever I could get hold of.

The swan, not content with its first success, came after me, when, by
some means or other. I caught hold of it by one of its legs. To this
day I don't know how it happened. The water was deep, and I had very
little notion of swimming, and having once got hold of something to
support myself I was not inclined to let go, while the swan was as much
astonished at being seized hold of as I was. I shouted and bawled for
help, although, as no one was likely to be at the pond at that early
hour, or passing in the neighbourhood, there was little chance of
obtaining assistance.

Away flew the swan, spreading out her broad wings to enable her to rise
above the surface. Instead of seeking the land, to my horror, she
dragged me right out towards the middle of the pond; while the other
swans, alarmed at seeing the extraordinary performance of their
companion, flew off in all directions. Fortunately I was able to keep
my head above the surface, but was afraid of getting a kick from the
other leg of the swan as she struck the water with it to assist herself
in making her onward way, but as I held her captive foot at arm's
length, fortunately she did not touch me. I dared not let go with one
of my hands, or I should have tried to seize it. Whether it was
instinct or not which induced her to carry me away from her nest I
cannot tell, but that seemed to be her object. I felt as if I was in a
horrid dream, compelled to hold on, and yet finding myself dragged
forward against my will. The pond was a long and narrow one, but it
seemed wider than it had ever done before. The swan, instead of going
across to the opposite bank, took a course right down the centre. My
shouts and shrieks must have filled her with alarm. On and on she went
flapping her huge wings. I knew that my life depended upon being able
to hold fast to her foot, but my arms were beginning to ache, and it
seemed to me that we were still a long way from the end. When we got
there, I could not tell what she might do. Perhaps, I thought, she
might turn round and attack me with beak and wings, when, exhausted by
my struggles, I should be unable to defend myself. Still I dared not
venture to let go. I heartily wished that I had been a good swimmer,
because then, when we got near the end, I might have released her and
struck out, eith