IN FLIGHT TIME 
less flappings and wild cries tell of their early flight 
to other lands. A few remain in England, but the 
great body of stone-curlews leaves us. 
From Tom's 'ship-walk ' there is one of the fairest 
sights in England. Great stripes of velvety green 
turf from half a mile to a mile in length, and of 
widths varying from fifty yards to two or three hun- 
dred, all dotted with sheep. From these stripes you 
dip down into green hollows, sheltered from all the 
winds that blow, and studded over with fine clumps 
of juniper trees, heather, and furze in full bloom even 
yet, though it is late autumn. Where the ground, 
has been broken in past times for stone-getting, the 
stone-bramble, as some call it, or dewberry droops 
down with its large refreshing fruit. I have seen some 
of them in pits and hollows that were quite as large 
as ordinary mulberries. Mushrooms stud the turf of 
the sheep-walk, but as our business is with the birds 
only, we leave these for Tom to pick up. The badger, 
too, roams along the sheep-walks in quest of mush- 
rooms, slugs, snails, and other small matters. Here 
one might wander for weeks, and yet find fresh 
beauties every day. 
So still is it to-day that the thistle-down hardly 
floats clear of the dog that stands near the plant it 
fell from, and old Jack actually pants with the heat. 
