THE COVERTS 267 



securely in their recesses, and even experienced rangers 

 lose their bearings in the mist or the dusk. 



In the British Isles, on the other hand, all is lifelike 

 and homelike, for everything sylvan is on a more 

 moderate scale. Above all, the kindly damp of the 

 climate makes the vegetation of the undergrowth 

 flourish in rare luxuriance. Shakespeare, Milton, 

 Spenser, Scott, and scores of other poets have sung 

 the rich picturesqueness of the bosky bourns, with 

 their tangled wealth of natural shrubbery. Except 

 among the firs, it is seldom indeed that you get an 

 open view ahead and beneath in the British woods. 

 Nor do we know in which of the three kingdoms the 

 woodland scenes are most enchanting. Look around 

 from any eminence in England, even in the level 

 midlands or the hunting shires. There was a time 

 when the country from the Cheviots to the Channel, 

 from Bamborough Castle to Michael's Mount, was 

 almost unbroken woodland with occasional clearings 

 round town or hamlet. Everywhere the sylvan shreds 

 and patches of that prehistoric period have, latterly at 

 least, been jealously guarded. And now, in this utili- 

 tarian age, the " amenities " of romantic woodland are 

 recognised as having a market value, which is the surest 

 guarantee for their preservation. Looking out over 

 the landscapes, you see the gabled roof of the ancient 

 hall, sheltering in the foliage of ancestral woods ; the 

 towers and spires of the village churches, surrounded 

 by tall groups of trees and rising above the venerable 

 yews in the churchyards ; the chimneys of the farm- 



