SUMMER HOURS ON BREYDON 143 



would have called it a water-rat, and been ready in a moment 

 to throw at it a piece of stick or a bit of hardened mud. 

 There are few who do not begrudge a rat its life. Another 

 vole joins it its mate, no doubt ; they are out for a feed and 

 frolic. Deliberately does one pull down a thick succulent 

 grass-blade, nibbling it through at its base, and sitting upon 

 its haunches while working away at it with its yellow incisors 

 munch ! munch ! we can hear it quite distinctly until the 

 last inch disappears between its teeth. Now it wipes its face 

 with its finger-like paws, scratches its left ear with its hind 

 foot, and turns to seize another grass-blade, when up runs its 

 companion and evidently makes some sign, for the two 

 scuttle at once into the safer mazes of the reeds, to peer out 

 again directly, as if half-ashamed of being so nervous. 



The swallows, many of which were recently hatched in the 

 crevices and in nests under the beams in the old marsh-mill 

 behind us, have been wheeling round the mill-cap, and dash- 

 ing in and out of its wicket and window, until quite dusk. 

 Whether they wish to curtail the short summer night's nap- 

 ping, or to snatch up a few moths to vary the day's gleanings 

 among the flies with a change of diet, we cannot say. But by 

 the time the bats are on the wing the last swallow has tucked 

 its bill under its wing-coverts in the quaint, grim edifice, the 

 creaking of whose wooden wheels sometimes makes weird 

 lullaby to bird, and beast, and man within hearing of it. 



Little bats and big bats pipistrelle and noctule are now 

 dashing hither and thither overhead ; there may be even 

 rarer species among them, but so little attention which, alas! 

 often means slaughter as well is given to the Cheiroptera, 

 that the identity of some of them may be left undecided. 

 We cannot mistake the broad-winged noctule, for he is a big 

 fellow, a foot across his membraneous wings ; and he looms 

 up larger than he really is, like a bird in a fog. He has 

 a fine set of teeth, as we know by experience, and can use 

 them well; the night-flying beetles and the flittering moths 

 find this out to their cost. Whether the noctule catches the 

 big dor-beetles in the folds of his wing I cannot say he 

 halts strangely in his flight sometimes, and may do so in 

 order to seize upon the beetle ; but we rather think so strong- 

 limbed a creature might do damage to those india-rubber- 

 like wings, which are delicate and sensitive. He is clever, 



