The Haunt of the Hare 



underwood, now grey, now green; the dry stalks of 

 plants, brown, white, or dark, all the innumerable 

 minor hues that cross and interlace, there is sug- 

 gested the woven texture of tints found on the wings 

 of birds. For brighter tones the autumn leaves can 

 be resorted to, and in summer the finches rising from 

 the grass spring upwards from among flowers that 

 could supply them with all their colours. But it is 

 not so much the brighter as the undertones that 

 seem to have been drawn from the woodlands or 

 fields. Although no such influence has really been 

 exerted by the trees and plants upon the living 

 creatures, yet it is pleasant to trace the analogy. 

 Those who would convert it into a scientific fact 

 are met with a dilemma to which they are usually 

 oblivious, i.e. that most birds migrate, and the very 

 tints which in this country might perhaps, by a 

 stretch of argument, be supposed to conceal them, 

 in a distant climate with a different foliage, or none, 

 would render them conspicuous. Yet it is these 

 analogies and imaginative comparisons which make 

 the country so delightful. 



One day in autumn, after toiling with their guns, 

 which are heavy in the September heats, across the 

 fields and over the hills, the hospitable owner of the 

 place suddenly asked his weary and thirsty friend 

 which he would have, champagne, ale, or spirits. 

 They were just then in the midst of a cover, the trees 

 kept off the wind, the afternoon sun was warm, and 

 thirst very natural. They had not been shooting in 

 the cover, but had to pass through to other corn- 

 fields. It seemed a sorry jest to ask which would be 

 preferred in that lonely and deserted spot, miles 

 from home or any house whence refreshment could 

 be obtained wine, spirits, or ale? an absurd ques- 

 139 



