HEATHLANDS 



dead brown leaves, last year's, apparently of birch, 

 for some young birch saplings grew close by. One 

 of these leaves suddenly rose up and began to move 

 of itself, as it seemed ; an ant had seized it, and 

 holding it by the edge travelled on, so that as the 

 insect was partly hidden under it, the leaf appeared 

 to move alone, now over sticks and now under 

 them. It reminded me of the sight which seemed 

 so wonderful to the early navigators when they 

 came to a country where, as they first thought, the 

 leaves were alive and walked about. 



The ant with the leaf went towards a large 

 heap of rubbish under the sapling birches. While 

 watching the innumerable multitude of these in- 

 sects, whose road here crossed these dead dry 

 leaves, I became conscious of a rustling sound, 

 which at first I attributed to the wind, but seeing 

 that the fern was still and that the green leaves of 

 a Spanish chestnut opposite did not move, I began 

 to realise that this creeping, rustling noise, distinctly 

 audible, was not caused by any wind, but by the 

 thousands upon thousands of insects passing over 

 the dead leaves and among the grass. Stooping 

 down to listen better, there could be no doubt of 

 it : it was the tramp of this immense army. 



The majority still moved in one direction, and 

 I found it led to the heap of rubbish over which 

 they swarmed. This heap was exactly what might 

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