BEAKS 45 



the cows home from pasture and all nature is pre- 

 paring itself for rest. Bang goes a distant gun and 

 you see a wave of scurrying rabbits making for the 

 cover. The sound is perhaps followed by a sharp 

 squeal of pain or the cry of the man to his dog, and 

 then all is silence for a while. The sun sinks below 

 the horizon and the swallows and swifts alone 

 pursue their prey, as the first pipistrelle flitters 

 past your tree. Soon the swallows are gone to roost 

 and you listen and wonder where the swifts are gone 

 to, as their screaming voices sound fainter and fainter 

 away up in the clouds. They have gone too, and 

 the first notes of the nightingale and the long-eared 

 owl tell you that night is coming on. An hour has 

 gone since you first climbed the tree : you have 

 become stiff and cold and the midges amioy you ; 

 but happily the evening breeze sweeps them all 

 away, and soothed by the gentle rustle in the sur- 

 rounding foliage you cease to think of your dis- 

 comfort. You can still see in the hazy landscape 

 the long line of feeding rabbits, for their fears are 

 once more set at rest. When looking towards the 

 ^ set ' you notice the clean, white head with the two 

 black lines that you have come to see. Another 

 head looks out, and yet another, and then with a 

 short run the old badgers are out and sitting down 

 to listen. They are soon followed by the youngsters, 

 who start a game of romps, as their elders gradually 

 wander away to forage amongst the nettles and the 

 foxgloves. Perhaps the harvest moon has risen to 

 show you all you want to see, or you may have to be 

 content with a flimsy grey streak or two, almost in- 



