hiding and diving, which I had waited so long to see.

Later I saw her bring little fish, which she had slightly wounded,
turn them loose in shallow water, and with a sharp cluck bring the
young loons out of their hiding, to set them chasing and diving wildly
for their own dinners. But before that happened there was almost a
tragedy.

One day, while the mother was gone fishing, the little ones came out
of their hiding among the grasses, and ventured out some distance into
the bay. It was their first journey alone into the world; they were
full of the wonder and importance of it. Suddenly, as I watched, they
began to dart about wildly, moving with astonishing rapidity for such
little fellows, and whistling loudly. From the bank above, a swift
ripple had cut out into the water between them and the only bit of bog
with which they were familiar. Just behind the ripple were the sharp
nose and the beady eyes of Musquash, who is always in some mischief of
this kind. In one of his prowlings he had discovered the little brood;
now he was manœuvering craftily to keep the frightened youngsters
moving till they should be tired out, while he himself crept carefully
between them and the shore.

Musquash knows well that when a young loon, or a shelldrake, or a
black duck, is caught in the open like that, he always tries to get
back where his mother hid him when she went away. That is what the
poor little fellows were trying to do now, only to be driven back and
kept moving wildly by the muskrat, who lifted himself now and then
from the water, and wiggled his ugly jaws in anticipation of the
feast. He had missed the eggs in his search; but young loon would be
better, and more of it.--"There you are!" he snapped viciously,