220 NATURE IN DOWNLAND 



middle of the picture. As I sat there, idly watching 

 the wood-pigeons constantly arrivLag in small parties 

 of three or four to a dozen to settle down on the 

 yellow stubble field beneath me, then letting my sight 

 rest on the small red town two or three miles away, 

 and, a mile or so to the west of it, the village and 

 station of Elstead, it all at once came into my mind 

 that close by, in the small village of Trotton, where 

 his father was curate, Otway was born. Taking up 

 my binocular, I began excitedly seeking among the 

 green oaks near Elstead for that famous spot, but 

 before I could satisfy myself that I had picked it out 

 a chance glance at the yellow field at the foot of the 

 down revealed a black and white patch on the pale 

 stubble which had not been there a few minutes 

 before. Bringing my glasses to bear on the patch, 

 which was alive and moving, I discovered that it was 

 a party of fifteen magpies busily running about feed- 

 ing and playfully chasing one another on the ground. 

 This was to me a most astonishing sight ; it is rare in 

 England to see as many as fifteen magpies together, 

 even where game is not preserved, and here I was in 

 a corner of Sussex where pheasant-preserving is carried 

 to an extreme that occasionally excites the disgust of 

 even the most enthusiastic sportsmen. Not far from 

 the spot where I was sitting there was one small 

 property which was notoriously overstocked with 

 pheasants, and yet because a big man was coming 

 down for one day's shooting, the owner, not satisfied 



