276 Botanizing at Oalisltott Heath. 



step we were in danger of being drawn in to make items in the 

 fossils of the bog when it shall become rock, or coal, or lignite, 

 or what else in the far-off as^es. For those who make a similar 

 tour in the course here indicated we e:ive the word to beware 

 at this point. There can be no mistake about the locality, 

 because the watercourse has all the appearance of a road 

 covered with rank vegetation, but not a tree or bush anywhere 

 to check the progress of a horseman. t By some means we got 

 across this spongy dyke to the second or outer pine wood on 

 the right, which is only a few inches higher than the bog. We 

 had seen one squirrel while traversing the gully, now we heard the 

 wind roar like a cataract of water in the old pine wood, and for 

 the first time we became painfully conscious of the absolute 

 deadness (as respects animal life) of this vast region. "We had 

 travelled miles, and had not seen one bird, we had neither 

 heard nor seen a bee, a wasp, a cricket, or a blow-fly ; we had 

 long ago left the land of rabbits and foxes ; here there appeared 

 to be no game, no vermin, no fera of any kind; the wind, 

 tumbling like water through the tops of the trees in the old 

 pine wood, played the part of chorus, and a melancholy chorus it 

 was. The only object of interest in the course of a journey of 

 about a mile and a half beside this watercourse, was to find 

 among the pines several pretty clumps of Salix prostrata, 

 which clustered up with the grace and luxuriance of honeysuckle. 

 We found here a sprig of Betula, with nearly circular serrated 

 leaves, but could make nothing of it, and there were no birches 

 about to claim it as kindred. 



I like a genuine unmitigated gloom, the blacker the better — 

 if a little dangerous and silent enough to cause a feeling of 

 despair all the better ; it prepares one to sympathize with our 

 fellow-creatures who have been shipwrecked, shut up in coal- 

 mines, or left helpless in a lighthouse without oil or fresh 

 water or bread, and the sea running mountains high, and defy- 

 ing all help from the creature. Self and friend knew something* 

 of gloom, silence, damp, and danger ere we emerged from the 

 wood, and once more basked in the sunlight, and breathed the 

 free air, with the visible heaven above us. Oh, how delicious 

 was it to spring forward on to a dry sandy slopo again, and to 

 make away across the thymy hummocks to a brook skirting a 

 boundary line, and there make a feast of blackberries, so large, 

 so black, so luscious, that if I trust myself to tej.1 the truth, no- 

 body will believe me; so let it suffice that this brook (which you 

 can easily find if you follow in our footsteps) is arched over with 

 huge rods of liuhvs JriUicvlosa,, and the fruit is probably not to 

 be equalled by any other district of Britain. And what a brook 

 tip's is ! It is a paradise for a botanist. Think of lady-ferns 

 being the prevailing weed of the place, and so luxuriant in 



