on the Finding of a Treasure.



267



any colours—only two dark silhouetted forms, with very long sharply-

pointed almost Swift-shaped wings, dashing through and cleaving

the air in a manner no Kestrel could ever approach. To my trained

eye, the flight and shape of the bird on the wing were absolutely

different from those of the Kestrel: to my trained ear, the cry like¬

wise was absolutely different and distinct. They were not Kestrels

—that was pat; they were not Sparrow-Hawks—that was certain ;

Merlins did not come our way and never (so I then thought) nested

in trees : then, what could they he ? In a few minutes, the three

white balls of down were in my cap, the cap was in my mouth, and

I had descended and was displaying my treasures to the unbelievers

below. Yes, they had seen and heard the hawks—just common

Kestrels ; but the cry ?—just the well-known cry of the Kestrel,

which any body who knew anything about hawks would recognise in

a moment; I pointed to the moustache (cheek-stripe), the shades of

which were beginning to appear—exactly as in the young Kestrel!

Oh, the indescribable vanity and conceit of the ignorant! Surely

they know more than all the rest of the world put together. And

they are so happy in their own superlative emptiness ; he would be

a churl indeed who would grudge them their length of ear ! On

reaching home and examining the new arrivals quietly by myself, I

found that some of the quills were beginning to burst forth and

were dark like those of the Peregrine:— Kestrels indeed !!!


A day or two later, “ Jones” called to enquire how the young

“Kestrels” were getting on; and how he jeered and mocked and

scoffed, before other members of the family, at my obstinacy in

maintaining that the new birds were not Kestrels ! Like so many

of his calibre, including a great number of the “ softer ” sex, to

differ from their dictum is regarded as a personal affront ; he had

been nursing his dignity ever since our last meeting, and now was

mad angry at my total disregard of his opinion. Was he not “ Jones ”

of Brazenose, who had got him a name at Oxford for pulling a good

oar, and I but a beardless youth ? And the conceit of these people

is such, that the possibility of others not being of their way of

thinking never occurs to them :—and so the poor man allowed his

feelings to carry him a little too far; and great was the shock to his

self-esteem when my tall father, who had been reading or pretending



