SOME RARE BIRDS 239 



as a die over yon hill, till he becomes a speck on a 

 cloudless horizon, and afterwards we know that he 

 goes to a ravening brood ; and further, we are glad to 

 know that that brood went off in safety to swell, we 

 hope, the feathered throng for years to come. 



But rapt in admiration we too leave, making for 

 the little white inn lying peacefully amid these 

 darkening hills, and here pewters of good ale await 

 us, which we gratefully drink with this everlasting 

 toast, " Long life to the Kite, Buzzard, and Raven 

 in Wales." 



