REVEALING NIGHT 291 



the lake. A single clue has resolved a profound 

 mystery into clear knowledge. A spell has removed 

 all the enchantments of the forest. A broad path 

 comes from the underbrush where it had been hiding, 

 and places itself under our feet, so that we march 

 downhill as fearlessly as in daylight. But what is 

 that rushing, rasping sound behind us like the scales 

 of a big serpent scraping the ground ? Merely a 

 sycamore leaf sliding and tumbling before the breeze. 

 Surely so small a noise would be quite imperceptible 

 except in the velvet of this dark night 



Long waves come out from the middle of the lake 

 and stealthily fall on the shore. When a long white 

 ripple runs in among the willow-stems we think of the 

 otter that puzzled and a little terrified Bevis and his 

 friend in Richard Jefferies' immortal camping-out 

 book. There are few things so mysterious and full of 

 possibilities as a wave of which we cannot see the 

 origin. We remember how, on such a night as this, 

 as Jessica said, we rocked, half dreaming, in a drifting 

 boat, heard a new ripple approaching, felt ourselves 

 rock as something seemed to grip the gunwale, and 

 then saw with relief the face of a friend who had 

 fancied a swim, with our boat as the objective. 

 Nothing comes of the ripple in the willow-stems 

 except the drowsy voice of a mallard, as though he 

 had whispered encouragement to his startled mate. 

 From the other end of the island, three tinny syllables 

 call up the picture of a sheldrake's knobbed ver- 

 milion beak, for it was he undoubtedly that spoke. 

 The naked trees, now the hollies are passed, make 

 the rest of our woodland walk little darker than the 

 fields. But among the yews and other evergreens 



