BIRDS AT THEIR BEST 17 



and behind this low growth the ground rose abruptly, 

 forming a long green hill crowned with tall beeches. 

 I stopped to admire one of the bushes across the 

 stream, and I wish I could now say what its species 

 was : it was low with widespread branches close to 

 the surface of the water, and its leafless twigs were 

 adorned with catkins resembling those of the black 

 poplar, as long as a man's little finger, of a rich dark- 

 red or maroon colour. A party of about a dozen 

 long-tailed tits were travelling, or drifting, in their 

 usual desultory way, through the line of bushes 

 towards this point, and in due time they arrived, 

 one by one, at the bush I was watching, and finding 

 it sheltered from the wind they elected to remain 

 at that spot. For a space of fifteen minutes I looked 

 on with delight, rejoicing at the rare chance which 

 had brought that exquisite bird- and plant- scene 

 before me. The long deep-red pendent catkins and 

 the little pale birdlings among them in their grey 

 and rose-coloured plumage, with long graceful tails 

 and minute round, parroty heads ; some quietly 

 perched just above the water, others moving 

 about here and there, occasionally suspending 

 themselves back downwards from the slender 

 terminal twigs — the whole mirrored below. That 

 magical effect of water and sunlight gave to the 



