160 ADVENTURES AMONG BIRDS 



added to his soldier's pension, would enable him to 

 pass the remnant of his life in his native village. 



I thought of him now, the tall straight old soldier, 

 with his fine stern face and grey moustache and hair, 

 who had spent his years in defending the empire in 

 many distant lands, and was now anxiously guarding 

 a blackbird's nest in a park from the wild, lawless 

 little Afghans and Soudanese of the London slums. 

 It was nice to think of him here where he would 

 soon be back in his boyhood's haunts, as I sat on the 

 trunk of a sloping tree by the stream, a stone's-throw 

 from the churchyard. I was practically in the village, 

 yet not a sound could be heard but the faint whisper 

 of the wind in the trees near me and the ripple and 

 gurgling of the water at my feet. Then came another 

 sound — the sudden loud sharp note of alarm or 

 challenge of a moorhen a few yards away. There she 

 stood on the edge of the clear water, in a green flowery 

 bed of water-mint and forget-me-not, with a thicket 

 of tall grasses and comfrey behind her, the shapely 

 black head with its brilliant orange and scarlet 

 ornaments visible above the herbage. We watched 

 each other, and it was indeed peaceful at that spot 

 where nature and man lived in such a close companion- 

 ship, and very sweet to be there; nevertheless, it 

 did not suit me to stay in that village. Its charm 

 consisted mainly in its seclusion, in its being hidden 

 from the world in a hollow among woods and hills, 

 and I love open spaces best, wide prospects from doors 

 and windows, and the winds free to blow on me from 

 all quarters. Accordingly, I went to another village 



