138 FIELD AND HEDGEROW. 



shade as if the direct rays of the sun would burn their 

 delicate wings ; they hunt chiefly in the shade. The 

 linnets will suddenly sweep up into the boughs and con- 

 verse sweetly over your head. The sunshine lingers and 

 grows sweeter as the autumn gives tokens of its coming 

 in the buff bryony leaf, and the acorn filling its cup. 

 They are so happy, the birds, yet there are few to listen 

 to them. I have often looked round and wondered that 

 no one else was about hearkening to them. Altogether, 

 perhaps, they lead safer lives in England than anywhere 

 else. We do not shoot them ; the fowlers do mischief, 

 still they make but little impression ; there are few birds 

 of prey, and there is not that fearful bloodthirstiness 

 that makes a tropical forest so terrible in fact, under its 

 outward show of glowing colour. There, with cruel 

 hawks and owls, and serpents, and beasts of prey, a bird's 

 life is one long terror. They are ever on the watch here, 

 but they are not so fearfully harassed, and are not certain 

 as it were beforehand to be torn to pieces. The land is 

 well cultivated, and the more the culture the more the 

 food for them. Frost and snow are their greatest enemies, 

 but even these do not often last a great while. It is a 

 land of woods, and above all of hedges, which are much 

 more favourable to birds than forests, so that they are 

 better off in England than in other countries. From the 

 sowing to the reaping, the wheat-field gives a constant 

 dole like the monasteries of old, only here it is no crust, 

 but a free and bountiful largess. Then the stubble 

 must be broken up by the plough, and again there is a 

 fresh helping for them. Brown partridge, and black 

 rook, and yellowhammer, all hues and degrees, come to 

 the wheat-field. 



