IN HAMPSHIRE HIGHLANDS 9 



much farther west and the yellowhammer's mono- 

 tonous note, were the sole signs of all June's bird- 

 life, and occasionally the note of the latter alone 

 broke the deep silence which brooded over all 

 things as I reached the point where, in a perfectly 

 clear air, you can without field-glasses see the 

 aerial pinnacle of Salisbury Cathedral. It was 

 one of those alluring evenings when the winds, 

 high during morning and afternoon, are ' up- 

 gathered now like sleeping flowers/ whilst the sun, 

 hid through much of the day, reappears to sink 

 in the west a globe of fire. To the south there 

 lay stretched out a long line of purple hills, some 

 of which would overlook the rich valley of the 

 Wiltshire and Hampshire Avon a river having, 

 next to the Thames, the largest watershed of any 

 of our south-country streams ; and the valley, too, 

 of Avon's tributary, the little Winterbourne or 

 Porton Water, the 'pretty Bourne' of Michael 

 Drayton. Other hills would overlook the charm- 

 ing Anton and her Anna, and some few the 

 Test, a name to conjure with among anglers in 

 all parts of the country. There are not many 

 spots in the south of England where with a single 

 glance of the eye one can even dimly take in a 



