BIRDS AND THISTLEDOWN 193 



two hottest months of December and January, 

 stretching level before me to the horizon, and as 

 far as one could see glistening with the million million 

 balls of down lightly resting on the surface of the 

 grass. Then there would be a slight tremor in the 

 down at the first faint breath of a coming wind; a 

 tremor that would momentarily increase until the 

 topmost globes, resting lightly on the surface, would 

 begin to sway and move and finally rise, to float off 

 like soap bubbles, while still others would tremble 

 and sway, but fail to rise because obstructed by the 

 grasses they rested against. These too would eventu- 

 ally free themselves as the current of air increased 

 in strength, and would float too; while others, still 

 more obstructed, would remain behind until, the wind 

 still increasing, even these would be torn away from 

 the blades and stems that held them and rise after 

 the others, and eventually the whole air would be 

 full of the down flying before the wind. 



Even so it is with the birds, I have said, when they 

 are touched with that breath — that first disturbing 

 influence and impulse; when the first tremor, the 

 first indication of it, is seen in their behaviour, and 

 when it increases until first the most volatile and 

 swift-winged and most sensitive among them are 

 lifted up and carried away, while others still hold on 

 to their places, to be at last torn away by a power 

 that overcomes all resistance — whirled away on their 

 long aerial voyage. 



Nor is it only the woodland birds in that woodless 

 land that are seen to cling so tenaciously to their 



