WILD LIFE IN A SOUTHERN COUNTY. 243 



they rise, showering the spray on either side for a short 

 distance, and then, ascending on an inclined plane, 

 fly heavily, but with some strength. 



At night is their time of journeying, when they 

 come down from the lake or return to it, uttering a 

 weird cry in the darkened atmosphere. By day, as 

 they swim to and fro in the flags and through the 

 duckweed, shaded from the hot sun under willow and 

 aspen, they call to each other, not unpleasantly, a 

 note something like " croog," with a twirl of the " r." 

 In summer they do not move far from the place they 

 have chosen to breed in ; in the frosts of winter they 

 work their way up the brooks, or fly at night, but 

 usually come back to the old spot. The dabchick, a 

 slender bird, haunts the pond here too, diving even' 

 more quickly than the moor-hen. 



Nut-tree bushes grow along the bank of the brook 

 on this side the nuts are a smaller sort than usual ; 

 and beside the wet ditch within the mound and on the 

 " shore," wherever the scythe has not reached, the 

 meadow-sweet rears its pale flowers. At evening, if 

 it be sultry, and on some days, especially before a 

 thunderstorm, the whole mead is full of the fragrance 

 of this plant, which lines the inside ditch almost every- 

 where. So heavy and powerful is its odour that the 

 still, motionless air between the thick hedges becomes 

 oppressive, and it is a relief to issue forth into the open 

 fields away from the perfume and the brooding heat. 

 But by day it is pleasant to linger in the shadow and 

 inhale its sweetness if you are not nervous of snakes, 



