It was so quiet and seemed so safe that directly after the reeds
parted again and another bird swam out from among the sheltering
reeds. Robin knew this directly as a drake, but he had never
before seen one with such a gloriously green head, rich
chestnut-colored breast, soft gray back, or glistening metallic
purple wing spots.
Robin could have sent a sharp-pointed arrow at this beautiful bird,
and perhaps have killed it, for he knew well that roast duck or
drake is very nice stuffed with sage and onions, and with green
peas to eat therewith; but he never thought of using his bow, and
he was content to feast his eyes upon the bird's beauty and watch
its motions.
The drake took no notice of the moor-hen and her dusky dabs, but
swam right out in the middle, seemed to stand up on the water,
stretching out his neck and flapping his wings so sharply that
something right on the other side moved suddenly, and Robin saw
that there was another bird which he had not seen before--a
long-necked, long-legged, loose-feathered gray creature with sharp
eyes and a thin beak, standing in the water and staring eagerly at
the drake as much as to say:
"What's the matter there?" while he uttered aloud the one enquiring
cry--
"Quaik?"
"Wirk--wirk--wirk!" said the drake.
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