A GREAT FROST 233 



the deadly north-east wind. The very daws were 

 silent now, and dropped their wings like the others, 

 as if they had not energy enough to fold them over 

 their backs. Even the wren, that most vigorous 

 little creature, the very type and embodiment of 

 cheerfulness, had now too fallen into the universal 

 misery, and came out of hiding languidly if it came 

 at all, its feathers fluffed out and not a ghost of its 

 sharp angry little voice to scold you with. 



Towards evening on the second of the two worst 

 days I went out to Zennor Hill to see the sun 

 set from the top and watch the big furze and heath 

 fires which were burning far and wide on the moor. 

 On the slope of the hill I found a number of small 

 companies of starlings, huddled together as usual by 

 a hedge-side, making no attempt to feed, there being 

 nothing to be got from the iron earth ; and as the 

 sun declined they began to rise and fly away south- 

 wards to their roosting-place a spot three or four 

 miles inland, where a depression in the moor is 

 covered with a dense growth of old furze mixed 

 with blackthorn and brambles. Their miserable day 

 was ended and numbers of small flocks of from a 

 dozen to forty or fifty birds could now be seen 

 against the sky, all directing their flight to the same 

 point. It was a strangely slow and laborious flight, 

 and many of the birds were going for the last time 

 to their roost. From the summit where I tried to 

 shelter myself from the fury of the wind among the 

 large black masses of granite, the scene I looked 

 upon was exceedingly desolate. The brown moor 



