Wild Kindred

by Jean M. Thompson

It was such a delightful brook where the minnow family lived—one of the kind which runs along quietly for a short way, then suddenly bursts into little laughing ripples, bubbling, foaming, and hurrying along madly, as though it were trying to race away from itself. The brown bed of the brook was all paved with wonderful pebbles, and when the sun shone down upon them they sparkled just like fairy jewels. Oh, quite wonderful are the hidden treasures of the brook! It is filled with queer, interesting brook people.

The black and yellow turtle family lived beneath a tussock of coarse grass just at the bend of the brook, where the limb of an old tree had fallen, and lay half submerged in the water. Quite convenient it was, too, for the turtles; one would usually find some of them sunning upon the log; and when they all came out, they made a long line quite across the log, and frequently jostled each other "plump" off into the deep water.

Below, in a dark, still place, all day long the "lucky bug" family darted stupidly and aimlessly to and fro upon the mirror-like surface; and just above, under the roots of an old willow tree, whose snaky roots projected far into the water, lived Mr. and Mrs. Muskrat, and their three young ones. Beneath a flat rock, which shelved out into the water further down-stream, where it was deep, still, and mysteriously shadowy, two large fierce pickerel had their haunts; regular robbers and bandits they were, who made their living by preying upon everything which came within their reach. There were endless other families, all more or less interesting, which lived upon the banks, or within the brown waters of the brook.

But this time I am going to tell you about the minnows. In spite of the cruel net, which of course broke up the family, the minnows were about the jolliest family living in the brook. Father and Mother Minnow were very old and wise. They had wonderfully large, green bulging eyes, which looked not unlike green glass marbles, and could detect the approach of an enemy yards away. Then they would whisk out of sight in an instant, under the nearest stone, remaining right there until the danger passed.

Next in importance came the Twins, and they were so precisely alike that only their mother could really tell them apart. She knew quite well that one of them wore an extra speckle of brown upon his right side. The Twins were for ever getting into scrapes, and were full of mischievous pranks, which caused their parents no end of anxiety. Because they were so full of curiosity about everything, these Twins had to investigate any strange thing which entered the brook; this, in spite of oft-repeated warnings from their parents. I must not forget to mention the baby, a little bit of a slim, brown minnow, and so very timid that he seldom left his mother's side.

One day the minnows were all swimming together happily down-stream, pausing occasionally to exchange pleasant greetings with their neighbours. Just as they were passing the coarse grass tussock, Mrs. Spotted-Turtle stuck her head out between the grasses to tell them of an accident which had befallen one of her family, the youngest; one of his feet had been bitten off by the cruel old pickerel who lived down stream.

So very much interested were Mr. and Mrs. Minnow in listening to this sad story that they forgot to keep a watchful eye upon the Twins, who, as soon as they discovered that they were not being watched, darted fleetly off and were soon out of sight around a bend of the brook. They longed for strange, new adventures, thrilling things, and were quite mad with joy to be out of sight of the kind, watchful eyes of their parents, whom they considered unduly fussy and strict. Baby Minnow attempted to follow the Twins, but soon gave up and just waited under the edge of a pebble until his parents should join him.

Off and away darted the Twins; so swiftly did they travel that their slim sides flashed through the water like arrows of gold and silver. Wild with delight and freedom they often gave little sudden leaps and skips quite out of the water. They mischievously and wilfully swam in among the "lucky bug" family, scattering them far and wide, until the foolish things completely lost their heads, darting confusedly in all directions. The Twins even forgot to watch the spot where a pair of cruel jaws armed with sharp teeth usually lay in wait for them, snapping dangerously as they passed by the pickerel's den. But he did not catch them, because they were swimming too rapidly for the sly old fellow, who had been napping and was sluggish in his movements.

A whole drove of pale yellow butterflies joined the Twins just above the pickerel hole, and kept them company a long distance downstream, dancing merrily along over the water until a robin flew in among them and scattered them in all directions. Oh, they were never lonely upon their way; there was plenty of company. Musically hummed the blue, lace wings of a team of giant dragon-flies which escorted them for some distance. As the dragon-flies spent too much time darting for gnats, the Twins left them far behind. Soon they were a long way down-stream. The brook was full of surprises for them, as it gradually widened, and the sweet-flags and cat-tails grew tall and dense to the very edge of the water. They travelled less swiftly and swam in and out of the shallows, investigating the jewelled pebbles, aimlessly nibbling in a bed of watercress. Finally they paused to rest and take a leisurely view of their new surroundings.

Just in the edge of the water directly in front of them, near the watercress patch, suddenly they espied a strange, glittering object. Never in their lives had the Twins seen anything like this thing before them. Larger than any pebble it was and far more beautiful. They knew about scoop-nets, and for a time viewed the strange thing before them with misgivings. However, it failed to move, so they sidled cautiously nearer and nearer. Perhaps it was something good to eat, and they were decidedly hungry. It felt smooth and cool to the touch as they brushed it with their fins. Wonderful! There was an opening at one end, but it was not a mouth, because there were no teeth; therefore it would not bite.