HAUNT OF THE EVEJAR 3 i 



in front of me a curlew, disturbed at his 

 nocturnal feeding, whistled plaintively. A 

 mile away lay Baggy like a badger asleep. 



High above this promontory is an estab- 

 lished air-line, or hereditary route for 

 immigrant birds. Along this track travel 

 the chiffchafFs and wheatears in March, the 

 martins, warblers, and all the singing hosts 

 in April. Sometimes the night wind bears 

 a million feeble cries as the tired travellers 

 pass over. It is a place of enthralling 

 wonder in the youth of the year and of 

 sadness when autumnal days bring a weary 

 return. 



The night was quiet, the wavelets broke 

 on the sand, a great sigh filled the air. 

 From a sighing it swelled to a rushing of 

 wind, it grew in volume like a drift of 

 leaves in wintry blasts. Then soft thuds 

 overbore the strange noise. I stood still. 

 From afar and near came little croakings, 

 as though of exhaustion and pain. Dark 

 bunches lay on the sands. I picked one up; 



