parapet of the bridge, down stream, there
was a dead branch at the mouth of the arch, it had caught and got fixed
while it floated along. A quantity of aquatic weeds coming down the
stream had drifted against the branch and remained entangled in it.
Fresh weeds were still coming and adding to the mass, which had
attracted a water-rat.

Perched on the branch the little brown creature bent forward over the
surface, and with its two forepaws drew towards it the slender thread of
a weed, exactly as with hands. Holding the thread in the paws, it
nibbled it, eating the sweet and tender portion, feeding without fear
though but a few feet away, and precisely beneath me.

In a minute the surface of the current was disturbed by larger ripples.
There had been a ripple caused by the draught through the arch, but this
was now increased. Directly afterwards a moorhen swam out, and began to
search among the edge of the tangled weeds. So long as I was perfectly
still the bird took no heed, but at a slight movement instantly
scuttled back under the arch. The water-rat, less timorous, paused,
looked round, and returned to feeding.

Crossing to the other side of the bridge, up stream, and looking over,
the current had scooped away the sand of the bottom by the central pier,
exposing the brickwork to some depth--the same undermining process that
goes on by the piers of bridges over great rivers. Nearer the shore the
sand has silted up, leaving it shallow, where water-parsnip and other
weeds joined, as it were, the verge of the grass and the stream. The
sunshine reflected from the ripples on this, the southern side,
continually ran with a swift, trembling motion up the arch.

Penetrating the clear water, the light revealed the tiniest stone at the
bottom: but there was no fish, no water-rat, or moorhen on this side.
Neither on that nor many succeeding mornings could anything be seen
there; the tail of the arch was evidently the favourite spot. Carefully
looking over that side again, the moorhen who had been out rushed back;
the water-rat was gone. Were there any fish? In the shadow the water was
difficult to see through, and the brown scum of spring that lined the
bottom rendered everything uncertain.

By gazing steadily at a stone my eyes presently became accustomed to the
peculiar light, the pupils adjusted themselves to it, and the brown
tints became more distinctly defined. Then sweeping by degrees from a
stone to another, and fro