WARWICK WOODLANDS. 59 



to the old barrack yonder under the west-end "of that wood- 

 side, unhitch the horses and tie them in the shade ; you can 

 give them a bite of meadow hay at the same time ; and then 

 get luncheon ready. We shall be with you by two o'clock at 

 farthest." 



" Ay, ay, sur !" 



And off he drove at a steady pace, while we, striking into 

 the meadow, to the left hand of the road, went along getting 

 sport such as I never beheld, or even dreamed of before. For 

 about five hundred yards in width from the stream, the ground 

 was soft and miry to the depth of some four inches, with long 

 sword-grass quite knee-deep, and at every fifty yards a bunch 

 of willows or swamp alders. In every cluinp of bushes we 

 found from three to five birds, and as the shooting was for the 

 most part very open, we rendered on the whole a good account 

 of them. The clogs throughout behaved superbly, and Tom 

 was altogether frantic with the excitement of the sport. The 

 time seemed short indeed, and I could not for a moment have 

 imagined that it was even noon, when we reached the barrack. 



This was a hut of rude, unplaned boards, which had been 

 put up formerly with the intent of furnishing a permanent abode 

 for some laboring men, but which, having been long deserted, 

 was now used only as a temporary shelter by charcoal burners, 

 hay-makers, or like ourselves, stray sportsmen. It was, how- 

 ever, though rudely built, and fallen considerably into decay, 

 perfectly beautiful from its romantic site ; for it stood just at 

 the end of a long tangled covert, with a huge pin oak-tree, lean- 

 ing abruptly out from an almost precipitous bank of yellow sand, 

 completely canopying it ; while from a crevice in the sand-stone 

 there welled out a little source of crystal water, which expanded 

 into as sweet a basin as ever served a Dryad for her bath in 

 Arcady, of old. 



Before it stretched the wide sweep of meadow land, with the 

 broad blue Wellkill gliding through it, fringed by a skirt of cop- 

 pice, and the high mountains, veiled with a soft autumnal mist, 

 sleeping beyond, robed in their many-colored garb of crimson, 

 gold, and green. Besides the spring the indefatigable Tim had 

 kindled a bright glancing fire, while in the basin were 'cooling 

 two long-necked bottles of the Baron's best; a dean white cloth 

 was spread in the shade before the barrack door, with plates 

 mnd cups, and bread cut duly, and a travelling case of cruets, 

 with all the other appurtenances needful 



