brute. The ghurial[1] is of a finer breed. Living in the water he seeks his food in it, and does not flaunt his Maker with improvidence by wandering on the dry earth in search of sustenance. But at times the coarse admixture of his blood shows out, and he imitates his vulgar cousin in tying by the water’s edge, where the grazing kine may loiter, the weary peasant be trudging unobservant towards his home, his little son gathering drift-wood along the flood-line as he goes.
And the flood is out over the gardens and fields. Out on the broad lagoon, the gray-white kingfisher, with its shrill cry, is shooting to and fro where yesterday the feeble-winged thrush-babblers were wrangling over worms: the crocodile rests his chin on the grass-knoll where a few hours ago two rats were sporting. See the kingfisher, — how he darts from his watch-tower, checks suddenly his forward flight, starts upwards for a moment, hovering over the water with craning neck. And now his quick-beating wings close, and straight as a falling aerolite he drops, his keen, strong beak cleaving the way before him. And with what an exultant sweep he comes up, with the fish across his bill! The kingfisher is too proud to blunder: if he touches the water he strikes his prey; but rather than risk failure, he swerves when in his downward course to swerve had seemed impossible, and skimming the ruffled surface goes back to his watch-tower. He would not have his mate on the dead branch yonder see him miss his aim; rather than hazard discomfiture he simulates contempt, turning back with a cheery cry to her side, while the lucky fishlet darts deep among the weeds.
The great river is in flood. “Oh, Indra the Rain-
- ↑ Sharp-snouted crocodile.
