210 WITHIN AN HOUR OF LONDON TOWN. 



moss which looks as smooth and level as a carpet. 

 We go through this clear but very cold water at 

 a snail's pace, so that we may not cause the least 

 splash, for round the next bend in the moor we 

 expect to find one or two herons fishing. If we took 

 the higher ground, on the side of the hill farthest 

 from the stream, to avoid that cold water, our 

 search would, we well know, be a fruitless one ; 

 for no bird living has keener eyes than Jack Hern. 

 Before we do actually come to the turn we slip on 

 one side, and skirt round and in between some 

 old grey thorns that grow on a line of moss-covered 

 hillocks ; more than once we find ourselves about 

 to sink through with one leg. Those only who have 

 travelled through bogs and swamps know the 

 peculiar gentle sinking, the final breaking of the 

 upper crust. There is a dull sob as the leg is 

 pulled out, and you see the hole filled with water 

 instantly. As the ground here is higher, and my 

 field-glass is a good one, I have from our ambush 

 a complete view of the trout-stream and all that 

 surrounds it. Sweeping the banks I get the alder 

 twigs fifty yards away, covered with moss, so near, 

 that the various tints are distinctly visible; the 



