"Kerrr-ik-r-r-r," he screamed triumphantly, making a terrific sound, just exactly like that of a harsh, wooden toy rattle, only louder, if possible. The very mountains rang with his cry. Then all the furry tribes knew for certain that Kos-ko-menos had come to live in that spot. Many of them disliked the idea very much; they dreaded his harsh scream which made the more timid jump and disturbed their babies, it was such a horrid cry. The kingfisher has always been considered a kind of outcast among other birds. They imagine that he is uncanny; that is, because of his wonderful skill at fishing, and because he can dart into the water quickly and stay under a long time, so they think perhaps he is himself more of a fish than a bird. They cannot understand why he does not walk properly, but has a way of waddling which is very funny because his legs are very short and placed far back upon his body. His great bushy crest makes him appear almost top-heavy and his appearance is ungainly. I think, however, that the real reason why he is shunned by some birds and shabbily treated, is because they are, secretly in their hearts, jealous of the beautiful feathers which Kos-ko-menos wears, because, no matter how homely his body may be, it is beautifully clothed. Upon the top of his head he wears a long, high crest of rich, dark green, which colour extends down his neck, and each little feather is flecked with spots of blue of a wonderful hue. Violet and blue is his coat, his tail a deep indigo blue. Over each crimson eye and just beneath it, is a cunning dot of black. He wears a thick, feathered waistcoat of yellowish-white, and his beak is jet black. Once more Kos-ko-menos screamed his wooden-rattle cry. Then like a flash he darted straight into the deepest part of the pool, and before the spray had fallen he was out again with a fine, wriggling fish. As he was about to kill the fish upon a near-by stone, a blue, flashing fury came dashing out of the woods with a harsh, angry scream, and Dee-dee-askh landed upon the crest of the kingfisher. They had a terrific battle; back and forth, back and forth over the creek they flew, showers of light blue feathers barred with black and white fell, and a few speckled green ones. Mrs. Kingfisher poked her head curiously forth from the bank to see what all the screaming meant. At last the jay flew back to the woods with a portion of his proud crest gone, and the kingfisher, smoothing down his ruffled feathers, gave another scream and went back to his fishing. 'Tis said that certain of the wood creatures who witnessed the conquering of the jay chuckled and grunted with joy, remembering sundry robberies of nests and burrows by Dee-dee-askh, the cruel one. After this they began to have a little more regard for Kos-ko-menos, the kingfisher; but this was just the _beginning_ of things.