But the man spat on his hands and took hold of the scythe. Then he walked out into the water and began to cut down the reeds, close in, at the edge, and right out, as far as they grew. They fell into the water, with a soft sigh; and then, when he had finished, he stood on the bank and contemplated his work.
"That was a fine clearing," he said. "Duck-hunting begins to-morrow."
Then he went a bit farther with his scythe and made another clearing.
But he had caused terrible misfortunes. He had torn the water-spider's nest and crushed the spider herself. He had broken the bladder-wort at the root with his heavy wooden boots. And the reed-warblers' nest lay overturned among the cut reeds.
The reed-warblers flew round the nest with loud screams:
"The children! The children!" they cried.
The children had saved themselves. Four had fluttered on land and sat there and looked thoroughly bewildered. The fifth was half-buried under the reeds and could not get out.
The two old ones with difficulty brought it in to the others:
"Oh dear! oh dear!" said little Mrs. Reed-Warbler, in despair. "What are we to do now?"