Another leap, and he burst the rope; but as he jumped he
tossed his load of sea-weed high in the air; it fell, and Arthur with
it, on a rock.
"The owl gave a long, dismal cry, the kingfisher swept madly away after
the sturgeon, and Arthur, bruised and sore, lay panting on the rock. For
a long while he could do nothing. The owl went off in search of food,
promising to return at nightfall. The day wore on. Arthur, weak with
hunger, tried to devour some of the sea-weed. It was too bitter and
salty. Leaning over the edge of the rock, he saw a shoal of tiny fishes
playing hide-and-seek in the eddies of the stream. He clutched at one of
them and devoured it. Never had he tasted a sweeter morsel. He caught
another, and another, until his hunger was fully appeased. Evening came
again; the moon shone early; Arthur was awakened from a long nap by the
hooting of the owl, which said,
"'Here I am again, my distressed friend.'
"At the same moment the kingfisher swooped down on them, and stood
tilting and flapping his wings on a corner of the rock. 'Now,' said he,
'as I am a bird of my word, and have promised to help you, we will
proceed to business. This sea-weed is dry, as you see, and very much
lighter. You, Mrs. Owl, can easily carry it, while I will take your
young friend Mr. Frog. Let us be off at once, you, madam, directing the
flight.
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