WOOD AND WASTE 169 



evince any signs of hunger. He never 

 whined or piped or looked about him with 

 any particular interest. On the contrary, 

 "the dog it was that died"; it was I who 

 was starving, for my lunch was in my 

 saddle bag, and I could never, of course, 

 venture out for it. As, however, hour after 

 hour passed with my thoughts fixed on the 

 joys of witnessing the pigeon feeding its 

 young, I began to think about feeding 

 myself, and the poor innocent bird on its 

 nest began to have a ludicrous resemblance 

 to quail on toast. By 6.30, when I left the 

 cliff, ample as were the proportions of the 

 quail, and huge as was the piece of toast, 

 I could have easily disposed of both. I 

 rode home that night wondering if it was 

 suspicion of the shining lens — the screen 

 had been up three days — that had kept the 

 old birds off, whether they fed the nestling 

 only at dawn and very late, or whether in 

 truth the nest had been deserted. 



Allusion has been made to the discomfort 

 suffered by the young pigeon from the 

 sun's heat. That its rays should have ever 

 reached the nest at all was of course owing 



23 



