HEATHLANDS 107 



of the rising ground, creeping under green boughs which 

 brush the shoulders, after the empty space of the firs. 

 Within there is a pond, where lank horsetails grow 

 thickly, rising from the water. Returning to the rising 

 ground I pursue the path, still under the shadow of the 

 firs. There is no end to them the vast monotony has 

 no visible limit. The brake fern it is early in July 

 has not yet reached its full height, but what that will be 

 is shown by these thick stems which rise smooth and 

 straight, fully three feet to the first frond. 



A woodpecker calls, and the gleam of his green and 

 gold is visible for a moment as he hastens away the 

 first bird, except the wood-pigeons, seen for an hour, 

 yet there are miles of firs around. After a time the 

 ground rises again, the tall firs cease, but are succeeded 

 by younger firs. These are more pleasant because they 

 do not exclude the sky. The sunshine lights the path, 

 and the summer blue extends above. The fern, too, 

 ceases, and the white sand is now concealed by heath, 

 with here and there a dash of colour. Furze chats call, 

 and flit to and fro ; the hum of bees is heard once more 

 there was not one under the vacant shadow ; and 

 swallows pass overhead. 



At last emerging from the firs the open slope is 

 covered with heath only, but heath growing so thickly 

 that even the narrow footpaths are hidden by the over- 

 hanging bushes of it. Some small bushes of furze here 

 and there are dead and dry, but every prickly point 

 appears perfect ; when struck with the walking-stick the 

 bush crumbles to pieces. Beneath and amid the heath 

 what seems a species of lichen grows so profusely as to 

 give a grey undertone. In places it supplants the heath, 

 the ground is concealed by lichen only, which crunches 

 under the foot like hoar-frost. Each piece is branched 



