i8o WITH THE WOODLANDERS. 



and down dale, to where they cums to cut their 

 capers." 



It was a clear morning, and a soft one for the 

 middle of March, as we stepped out on the sward 

 from the little garden-gate. " When the sun gets 

 well over the hill and shines on the slopes, it will 

 suit them well," I observe. 



"Jest about, I reckins," says my companion, who 

 is as usual gaitered right up to his thighs ; " most 

 likely we'll run up agin summit o' sum sort afore 

 we gets there, goin' through the pasture-woods, if we 

 keep our eyes open. It wun't be long afore it gits 

 middlin' light." 



There was life in the air and life in the fresh 

 sharp scent of the fir-woods, and even in the leaf- 

 mould, the decayed and decaying fir-needles, which 

 would soon be covered with the young growth of 

 whorts and heather. Rabbits scuttle away at the 

 sound of our footsteps, that is all the intimation 

 we have as yet that other creatures besides our- 

 selves are stirring. 



" Hear them 'ere magpies," said my companion, 

 presently; "there's a couple on 'em gittin' into mis- 

 chief soon as iver 'tis light enough fur 'em to see ; 



