The Old Punt 21 



out into the water that the moorhen feeding near 

 the land was beyond reach of shot. From the green 

 matted mass through which a boat could scarcely 

 have been forced came a slight uncertain sound, now 

 here now yonder, a faint ' suck-sock ; ' and the dragon- 

 flies were darting to and fro. 



The only ripple of the surface, till broken by the 

 sculls, was where the swallows dipped as they glided, 

 leaving a circle of tiny wavelets that barely rolled a 

 yard. Past the low but steep bluff of sand rising 

 sheer out of the water, drilled with martins' holes and 

 topped by a sapling oak in the midst of a great furze 

 bush : yellow bloom of the furze, tall brake fern nest- 

 ling under the young branches, woodbine climbing up 

 and bearing sweet coronals of flower. 



Past the barley that came down to the willows by 

 the shore— ripe and white under the bright sunshine, 

 but yonder beneath the shadow of the elms with a 

 pale tint of amber. Past broad rising meadows, where 

 under the oaks on the upper ground the cattle were 

 idly lying out of the sultry heat. 



Then the barren islands, strewn with stone and 

 mussel-shells glistening in the sunshine, over which in 

 a gale the waves made a clean sweep, rendered the 

 navigation intricate ; and the vessel had to be worked 

 in and out, now scraping against rocky walls of sand- 



