I
carried him in my arms; he didn't struggle to get away or offer to
strike me, and when I put him on the floor in front of the kitchen
stove, he just rested quietly on his belly as noiseless and motionless
as if he were a stuffed specimen on a shelf, held his neck erect, gave
no sign of suffering from any wound, and though he was motionless, his
small black eyes seemed to be ever keenly watchful. His formidable
bill, very sharp, three or three and a half inches long, and shaped
like a pickaxe, was held perfectly level. But the wonder was that he
did not struggle or make the slightest movement. We had a
tortoise-shell cat, an old Tom of great experience, who was so fond of
lying under the stove in frosty weather that it was difficult even to
poke him out with a broom; but when he saw and smelled that strange
big fishy, black and white, speckledy bird, the like of which he had
never before seen, he rushed wildly to the farther corner of the
kitchen, looked back cautiously and suspiciously, and began to make a
careful study of the handsome but dangerous-looking stranger.
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