THE HARBOURER DESPONDENT 93 



rose, pool and stream catch the foreglow, the 

 reflection in the tarn is like an almond grove in 

 bloom, and the sun shows below the crimson 

 streaks that had heralded it. At the sight Grylls 

 returns the glass to his pocket and, feeling 

 chilled, jumps to his feet and walks briskly up 

 and down on the rim of the great basin to warm 

 himself. 



Had he seen an otter he would by this be 

 crossing the moor to meet the squire and tell, 

 instead of pacing to and fro waiting for the 

 hounds and glancing down now and again 

 towards the spot where he expects to see them. 

 It is full day by this, and river and tributary 

 stream stretch across the purple moorland like 

 golden threads. ■ Grand mornin'. Ah ! if we 

 can only find !' he sighed, as the uncertainty of 

 the sport flashed across his mind. ' If ! But 

 there, man, 'tes no use iffin'. Wait and hope for 

 the best.' All at once the harbourer stopped 

 and, screwing up his eyes, looked steadily towards 

 the solitary clump of pines to which from time 

 to time he had directed his gaze. * Here they 

 come, and a good few with 'em. Ah ! ah ! and 

 there's one, two, three, four comin' up-river, and 

 Matthey — it caan't be anybody else — crossing 

 the foord. There '11 be a brave little meet to 



