THROUGH FIRS AND HEATHER. 303 



it has been covered quite recently. There are no 

 signs of flourishing vegetation, only one or two 

 cotton - grass bents here and there. No ragged 

 ponies, no rough cows, not even a heth- cropper's 

 donkey can we see, or a hut or low house ; nor is 

 there a bird to be seen or heard far or near. We 

 are in the quiet of the wild brown moors : wild it is, 

 but very beautiful, for we are face to face with some 

 of the loveliest works of the Maker of all. Huge 

 cloud-shadows flit over the moor and up and over 

 the fir-covered hills opposite, then bright flashes of 

 sun come out, lighting up the moor with silvery 

 splashes and streaks where the water lies in the bog. 

 To see a mountain of clouds throw their shadows 

 over the hills, closely followed by light, appears to 

 chase away all gloomy thoughts and morbid fancies. 

 The young shoots of the fir-forest that clothe the 

 hills show bright golden green in the light, warm 

 light and purple grey in the shade, so that as you 

 look, they appear like mighty waves of golden green 

 and purple beating up and over the hills. 



If only some creature would cry out, it would give 

 some sense of life ; but no curlew, plover, snipe, or 

 blackcock is here. That bird-life is abundant in this 



