AMONG THE HILLS. 39 



them again from some young firs self-sown. These 

 young trees spring up in all directions, single, and 

 in clumps which give fine cover. The birds like 

 these places, because they get here a good look-out 

 as a rule. Blackcock are very shy. With a note of 

 warning to the hens, up he springs again, the white 

 on his wings and tail -coverts showing distinctly, 

 while his back flashes steel-blue in the sun. The 

 hens follow, three of them, and they are soon over 

 the trees to find a fresh playground. They are late 

 this season, for it has been a bitter winter and a long 

 one, the snow covering the hills far into April. 



" How do such large birds live on the moors and 

 hills in such bitter weather?" I was asked once by 

 a naturalist, so called because he had studied bird- 

 life from books and stuffed specimens. Stuffed, 

 indeed ! the word is suitable : tow rammed down 

 their throats, and little more. 



The stems of the dead plants, especially those of 

 the fern, are tough : any one who has walked through 

 the brake must have noticed how they cross and fall 

 over, making a tangle. When the snow falls it is 

 caught and held up by the dead fronds and stems. 

 More falls, and only the tips here and there peep 



