Entering the Forest. 225 



distant clowns leads to the forest. It would be quite 

 possible to pass by the edge without knowing that 

 it was O near, for a few scattered trees on the hill- 

 side would hardly attract attention. Nothing marks 

 where the trees cease : thin, wide apart, and irregu- 

 larly placed, because planted- by nature, the} 7 look 

 but a group on the down. There is indeed a bound- 

 ary, but it is at a distance and concealed : it is the 

 trout stream in the hollow far below, winding along 

 the narrow valley, and hidden by osier-beds and 

 willow pollards. 



Ascending the slope of the down towards the 

 trees, the brown-tinted grass feels slippery under 

 foot : this wiry grass always does feel so as autumn 

 approaches. A succession of detached hawthorn 

 bushes like a hedge with great gaps grow in a 

 line up the rising ground. The dying vines of the 

 bryony trail over them one is showing its pale 

 greenish white flowers, while the rest bear heavy 

 bunches of berries. A last convolvulus, too, has a 

 single pink-streaked bell, though the bough to which 

 it holds is already partly bare of leaves. The touch 

 of autumn is capricious, and passes over many trees 

 to fix on one which stands out glowing with color, 

 while on the rest a dull green lingers. Near the 

 summit a few bunches of the brake fern rise out 

 of the grass ; then the foremost trees are reached, 

 beeches as yet but faintly tinted here and there. 

 Their smooth irregularly round trunks are of no 

 great height both fern and trees at the edge 

 seem stunted, perhaps because they have to bear the 

 brunt and break the force of the western gales sweep- 

 ing over the hills. 



15 



