II 

 The Heron at Home 



EAVES cling to the oaks ; they rustle sadly as 

 the keen winter wind, passing first over the 

 rippled lake, blows in gusts through the trees. Now 

 and again dark-brown leaves or small branches drop 

 and are lost sight of in the dying bracken ; brown 

 rabbits moving slowly about with short jerks or hops 

 are almost invisible. 



A kestrel hovering beyond the lake is difficult to 

 see when he drops and hovers again, like a bird 

 poised by an elastic string, between me and the giant 

 oak. 



It is not until one hears the unmistakable and 

 piteous squeal of a young rabbit, that we again catch 

 sight of the bird, fluttering and struggling with his 

 prey. Young rabbits of all sizes may be found in 

 any month of the year ; I have come across them 

 when they were just able to run about in the depth 

 of winter. Now for a time there is silence as one 

 bunny and then another pops his head out of his 

 hole, listens, looks around, and then ventures out 

 again. 



D 49 



