Under the Acorns 



That was woodcraft ; to kick the bird up would have 

 been simply nothing at all. Now I found why I 

 could not see the pheasant's neck or body; it was not 

 really concealed, but shaded out by the mingled hues 

 of white grasses, the brown leaves of the surface, and 

 the general grey-brown tints. Now it was gone, there 

 was a vacant space its plumage had filled up that 

 vacant space with hues so similar, that, at no farther 

 distance than two yards, I did not recognise it by 

 colour. Had the bird fully carried out its instinct 

 of concealment, and kept its head down as well as 

 its body, I should have passed it. Nor should I have 

 seen its head if it had looked the other way; the eye 

 betrayed its presence. The dark glittering eye, which 

 the sunlight touched, caught my attention instantly. 

 There is nothing like an eye in inanimate nature; 

 no flower, no speck on a bough, no gleaming stone 

 wet with dew, nothing, indeed, to which it can be 

 compared. The eye betrayed it; I could not over- 

 look an eye. Neither nature nor inherited experience 

 had taught the pheasant to hide its eye ; the bird not 

 only wished to conceal itself, but to watch my motions 

 and, looking up from its cover, was immediately 

 observed. 



At a turn of the lane there was a great heap of oak 

 " chumps," crooked logs, sawn in lengths, and piled 

 together. They were so crooked, it was difficult to 

 find a seat, till I hit on one larger than the rest. 

 The pile of " chunks " rose halfway up the stem of 

 an oak tree, and formed a wall of wood at my back; 

 the oak-boughs reached over and made a pleasant 

 shade. The sun was warm enough to render resting 

 in the open air delicious, the wind cool enough to 

 prevent the heat becoming too great; the pile of 

 timber kept off the draught, so that I could stay and 

 161 L 



