They come from deep down at the bottom, and shine with mud and slime and water-moss. They whisk along with much movement and many strokes of the tail. Reeds and rushes swing and sway as they stop for a moment to rub themselves against them. As they pass through the open water, between the masses of vegetation, where the sun suddenly shines upon their amber scales, Grim hastily conceals herself in the forest of weed.
The pliant water-plants, with their long stalks, accommodate themselves to the current, hanging westwards for an hour, only to turn just as unresistingly the opposite way the next. Stiff collars of leaves, like life-belts, hold up the naked stalks, and form a close, flickering thicket about the lurking lynx. Without the slime on her body, she would never get through.
Soon the fat-bellies are before her; they are slouching along in little companies, with a thick, greenish, juicy rim to the corners of their fat mouths.
Her purpose strengthens, her powers are doubled, but she is able to restrain herself: the moment has not yet come.
Not until the last “water-cow” is straight in front of her does she reveal herself; and the water flashes and bubbles as Grim twists and turns in her efforts to come up with her prey.
The flank attack, however, does not come altogether as a surprise to the “cow”; it has been prepared for it in this narrow passage, and therefore kept close to the bottom. As a stone bores its way into the ground, so does it plunge into the mud, stirring up the water, and digging itself in, so that Grim gets only mud and grains of sand between her teeth.
Another accident which only sharpened her appetite and made her ungovernably fierce; and just then a little roach swam past.
Grim started. Her embarrassment at her failure almost disappeared, and she involuntarily stiffened as she stood. She could see with half an eye that the little roach, which was limping along without any frolicsome jumps and twists, would be an easy prey.
What luck! Roach were generally lively little fish, and not easily got hold of; and although they formed part of her daily fare, she had to use all her powers and unfold all her energy in order to catch two or three, at the most five, a day. It was only in May, when they lay in bundles among the rushes, amorously flicking their tails, that she had her fill of them, taking as many as a score in the day.
Now only patience, a little more time to wait; for this time she would make sure of her fish!