CHAPTER IV 



CHASED BY POLECATS 



The sun had sunk below the hill, and Golden 

 Valley lay in shadow and repose. Zekiah, the 

 miller, his work done at last, sat smoking his 

 pipe on the bench by the door ; the mill-wheel 

 was at rest, and the stream was slowly refilling 

 the nearly emptied pond where, from time to 

 time, a wave in the shallows betrayed the 

 movement of a trout. Overhead a few swifts 

 yet wheeled : but yellow - hammer, whinchat, 

 blackcap, whitethroat, and long-tailed tit had 

 sought roosting -places in the furze, and the 

 magpie that haunted the mill had withdrawn 

 to his perch in the hawthorn. For them the 

 hour for rest had come ; the moment when 

 nocturnal creatures quit their retreat drew near. 

 The bat was on the point of leaving the crevice 

 under the eaves ; the owl in the ivied scarp, the 

 vixen in the earth overlooking the fowling-pool 

 watched the shadows deepen, and still more 



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