DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 195 



I always understood that the photographer is a 

 little bit of an autocrat in his dealings with ordinary 

 mortals, but I don't remember ever having so fully 

 realised it before that day. It was : " Take this and 

 do be careful." " Stand there oh, please, don't 

 shuffle, I said ' stand.' " " Oh, there's a laugh ; did 

 you see his face, Walter, just as I snapped him ? " 



I declined to go all the way to the top of the high 

 hill to see the lake that is supposed to be full of 

 trout, so I sat me down by the little burn that tumbles 

 with refreshing music from the lake to the river 

 that's in the meadows down below. 



Being rested and thirsty I got a drink from the 

 burn by dipping my nose into it. The movements 

 needed to do this brought to view clusters of wild 

 raspberries and, when I had gathered the best of 

 these, I saw that farther up the little glen, in which 

 the burn had worked its deep cutting, there were 

 more than could be gathered in a day. I tried the 

 nuts but they were, of course, quite soft, but I found 

 some wortleberries and laid my handkerchief over 

 them so as to easily find the spot to show them to 

 the boys who had often eaten this fruit in Devon- 

 shire pies but had never seen it growing. 



They were gone for quite two hours, and I had 

 another long rest, mused and wrote some notes in 

 the little dell that formed my world, where every- 

 thing seemed perfect and perfectly arranged. The 

 ferns were of every shade and, up amongst them 

 and above their heads, were the canes with berries 

 of glittering red, looking like gems, dotted so 

 lavishly as if there were, as there is, no limit to 

 Nature's bounty. Above these again the hazel 

 bushes, laden with nuts, hung down in graceful 



