6 <I(A!MBLES OF A 



long brown figure basking on the bank, and that often 

 the first sign of its presence is its rustle in the bushes 

 as it glides away. 



It is marvellous, too, how slowly grow upon the sense 

 of hearing, not merely the faint cries of bat and shrew, 

 but the call of the curlew, the drone of the nightjar, 

 even the chatter of a magpie ; while to the naturalist, 

 the notes of birds betray them as certainly as their 

 shape, their attitude, or the colour of their plumage. 



Nor is it alone the city man who finds the country 

 dull and barren. There is many a dweller among green 

 fields of whom it could not even truthfully be said that 



" A primrose by a river's brim 

 1 A yellow primrose was to him," 



he does not even see the primrose. 



How many a time has he crossed the wooden bridge 

 that spans the loitering river. He may, indeed, have 

 paused to watch the leap of a trout or the dip of a 

 swallow. But did he catch the white flicker of the 

 sandpiper that took wing far up the stream ? Did he 

 see the brown water-rat that watched him from the 

 shore, holding up in dainty paws the blade of sedge he 

 was nibbling for his supper ? The dragon-fly went past 

 without a glance from him : he had no eyes for the tiny 

 beetles that in mazy dances spun upon the glassy sur- 

 face. A wedge of wild duck overhead went by unseen. 

 The slow wings of the heron drifting up the stream 

 passed over him unnoticed. A troop of curlews flying 

 to the moorland called softly to each other in their 



