IX A German First of September 491 



analyse the whispering, murmuring, and rustling 

 mass of sound, now near, now distant, that filled 

 the air, and rose and fell on the whisperings of 

 the evening breeze. The ' too-too-tooral-do ' of 

 the wood-pigeon and the asinine laughter of the 

 woodpecker were old friends. The little brown 

 mice scuttled about, under and over the fallen 

 beech leaves, cheeping and squealing. The lizards, 

 on the bits of hot slate in the dry torrent bed, 

 chirruped their appreciation of the warmth of the 

 setting sun on their plump little stomachs ; and 

 across the path, on the smooth stem of a young 

 beech, a select party of grasshoppers, in bright green 

 and scarlet jackets, were scraping away most per- 

 severingly, apparently for the amusement of a 

 gigantic beetle with long recurved antemicB, who 

 stood head -downwards before them, either enjoying 

 the concert, or meditating which of the performers 

 would make the best supper. A pair of great 

 brown hornets, an inch and a half long, wheeling 

 round my head, broke in upon my reverie and 

 warned me off. Taking the hint, I was just turn- 

 ing to move to another tree, when a slight rustling 

 made me give a glance towards the thick beech 

 screen on the opposite side of the path, and I found 

 myself face to face with a roebuck just drawing 

 back to make his spring across the ride. I do 

 not know which was the more astonished ; but he 

 hesitated for a moment, and that moment was his 

 undoing. The shot struck him like a ball in the 



