There was a soft, gliding motion on the black rock, and, almost without a splash, something round and soft and grey-looking plunged into the sea.
“You scared it away,” said Kenneth.
“Oh, I am sorry!”
“Don’t suppose the seal is; but I couldn’t have hit it to do any harm with this gun.”
The boat glided on, and all at once, from the water’s edge about a hundred yards away, up rose, heavily and clumsily, a great flapping-winged bird.
“What’s that?” cried Max, whose knowledge of birds save in books was principally confined to sparrows, poultry, and pigeons.
“Heron. Can’t you see his beak?”
“Yes, and long neck. What a long thin tail!”
Scood chuckled.
“What’s he laughing at?”