BIRD LIFE, ETC. 143 



which I formed a sort of bed and lay down again. 

 But even heath was not to be obtained in sufficient 

 quantity, so that for a covering I was obliged to bury 

 myself in moss and turf, with the soil adhering. At 

 long, long length, the sky began to brighten in what 

 I supposed to be the north-east, and I was anxiously 

 looking for the approach of morn, when gradually the 

 pale unwelcome moon rose over a distant hill. It was 

 piercing cold, and I perceived that a strolling naturalist, 

 however fervid his temperament, could hardly, if 

 scantily clad, feel comfortable even among moss, in 

 a bog of the Grampians. What a blessing a jug of 

 hot water would have been to such a stomach as mine, 

 aching with emptiness, and nothing, not even tripe-de- 

 roche, to be got to thrust into it. However, morning 

 actually came at last, and I started up to renew my 

 journey. It was now that I got a view of my lodging, 

 which was an amphitheatre formed of bare craggy 

 hills, covered with fragments of stone and white moss 

 and separated by patches of peat bog. Not a house 

 was to be seen, nor a sheep, nor even a tree, nor so 

 much as a blade of green grass. Not a vestige of life 

 can be found here, thought I ; but I was reproved by 

 a cry that startled me. The scarlet crest and bright 

 eye of a moor-cock were suddenly protruded from a 

 tuft of heather, and I heard with delight the well-known 

 kok, kok of the "blessed bird," as the Highlanders 

 call him. It was a good omen ; the night and dulness 

 had fled, and I limped along as cheerily as I could. 

 My half-frozen blood soon regained its proper tempera- 



