i62 ADVENTURES AMONG BIRDS 



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 

 itice 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 in- 

 deed peaceful at that spot where nature and man lived 

 in such a close companionship, 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 pros- 

 pects from doors and windows, and the winds free to 

 blow on me from all quarters. Accordingly, I went 

 to another village, a mile and a half away, where it was 

 more open, and settled there in a cottage with working 

 people — man and wife and one child, a little boy of 

 eleven. 



