JULY DAYS 



attends his brother of the gun who, 

 sweating under the burden of lightest ap- 

 parel and equipment, beats the swampy 

 covers where beneath the sprawling al- 

 ders and arching fronds of fern the wood- 

 cock hides. Not a breath stirs the murky 

 atmosphere of these depths of shade, 

 hotter than sunshine ; not a branch nor 

 leaf moves but with his struggling pas- 

 sage, or marking with a wake of waving 

 undergrowth the course of his unseen 

 dog. 



Except this rustling of branches, 

 sedges and ferns, the thin, continuous 

 piping of the swarming mosquitoes, the 

 busy tapping and occasional harsh call 

 of a woodpecker, scarcely a sound in- 

 vades the hot silence, till the wake of 

 the hidden dog ceases suddenly and the 

 waving brakes sway with quickening 

 vibrations into stillness behind him. 

 Then, his master draws cautiously near, 

 with gun at a ready and an unheeded 

 mosquito drilling his nose, the fern leaves 

 burst apart with a sudden shiver, and 

 a woodcock, uttering that shrill unex- 

 plained twitter, upsprings in a halo of 

 rapid wing-beats and flashes out of sight 

 94 



