. Wood folk at school. gh thetrampled grass, driving him from water to bush andback again, jabbing him at every turn; till a rustle ofleaves invited him, and he dashed blindly into thickunderbrush, where her broad wings could not with marvelous watchfulness she saw me stand-ing near in my canoe; and without a thought, appar-ently, for the young heron lying so still in thegrass close beside her, she spread her torn wingsand flapped away heavily in the path of her morefortunate younglings. io6 Wood Folk at School I followed the fishers trail into the woods and foundhim curled up in a
. Wood folk at school. gh thetrampled grass, driving him from water to bush andback again, jabbing him at every turn; till a rustle ofleaves invited him, and he dashed blindly into thickunderbrush, where her broad wings could not with marvelous watchfulness she saw me stand-ing near in my canoe; and without a thought, appar-ently, for the young heron lying so still in thegrass close beside her, she spread her torn wingsand flapped away heavily in the path of her morefortunate younglings. io6 Wood Folk at School I followed the fishers trail into the woods and foundhim curled up in a hollow stump. He made slightresistance as I pulled him out. All his ferocity wasalready lulled to sleep in the vague, dreamy numbnesswhich Nature always sends to her stricken suffered nothing, apparently, though he was fear-fully wounded; he just wanted to be letalone. Both eyes were gone, and therewas nothing left for me except to finishmercifully what little Quoskh had leftn\ JjL$fi\ _^-—— - V ^>. ?iif When September came, andfamily cares were over, the colonybeyond the beaver pond scatteredwidely, returning each one to theshy, wild, solitary life that Quoskhlikes best. Almost anywhere, inthe loneliest places, I might comeupon a solitary heron stalkingfrogs, or chumming little fish, ortreading the soft mud expectantly,like a clam digger, to find where the u i Quoskh the Keen Eyed 107 mussels were hidden by means of his long toes;or just standing still to enjoy the sleepy sunshinetill the late afternoon came, when he likes best togo abroad. They slept no more on the big nest, standing likesentinels against the twilight glow and the settingmoon; but each one picked out a good spot on theshore and slept as best he could on one leg, waitingfor the early fishing. It was astonishing how carefullyeven the young birds picked out a safe position. Byday they would stand like statues in the shade of abank or among the tall grasses, where they were almostinv
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