126 THE EULOGY OF RICHARD JEFFERIES. 



peculiar species of sweet fern ; acre land. 

 So we may call it Fern-land Forest, and with 

 truth, for but one step beneath those beeches 

 away from the path plunges us to our shoulders 

 in an ocean of bracken. The yellow stalks, 

 stout and strong as wood, make walking 

 through the brake difficult, and the route 

 pursued devious, till from the constant turn- 

 ing and twisting the way is lost. For this is 

 no narrow copse, but a veritable forest in 

 which it is easy to lose one's self; and the 

 stranger who attempts to pass it away from 

 the beaten track must possess some of the 

 Indian instinct which sees signs and direc- 

 tions in the sun and wind, in the trees and 

 humble plants of the ground. And this is its 

 great charm. The heart has a yearning for 

 the unknown, a longing to penetrate the deep 

 shadow and the winding glade, where, as it 

 seems, no human foot has been. High over 

 head in the beech -tree the squirrel peeps down 

 from behind a bough his long bushy tail 

 curled up over his back, and his bright eyes 

 full of mischievous cunning. Listen, and you 

 will hear the tap, tap of the woodpecker, and 



