132 A MOORLAND SANCTUARY 



blossoms ; and the colours of leaf and flower 

 were reflected in the filmy curtain of the falling 

 water, and in the clear, trembling depths around 

 the vortex of the pool, from which fearless little 

 trout, that had never seen an angler's lure, rose 

 gaily to incautious flies. Sometimes an amorous 

 grouse, in all his springtide finery, mounted a 

 knoll on the highest ridge above the heather 

 and the furze, and there, boldly outlined against 

 the sky, stretched his wings, and cackled and 

 crowed, as if he knew and rejoiced that envious 

 eyes beheld him from the gorge. And, some- 

 times, the great stillness of the moor, of which 

 the unceasing sound of the waterfall seemed a 

 part, was broken by the " drum " of a towering 

 snipe, or the bleat of a wandering jack-hare, or 

 the carol of a joyous lark climbing an invisible 

 stairway to the sky. 



April brightened with the progress of spring, 

 and then across the moor came often, mellowed 

 by distance, the faint trill of a hovering plover ; 

 while from end to end of the marsh rang out the 

 loud, flute-like call of a curlew, as the bird, in 

 an ecstasy of delight, dashed to and fro on 

 rapid, whistling wings near the spot he had 

 chosen for his nest. 



To the peasant climbing fche sheep-path by the 

 farm, these wild voices were almost as eloquent 

 of the freedom of the hills as had been the roar 



