NATURE AND WOODCRAFT. 



just left, and there, on the topmost branches 

 of a pine, somewhere near the centre of the 

 wood, we shall find its nest. It is bulky, 

 having been repaired annually for years, and 

 somewhat neatly constructed of fir branches. 

 It is nearly flat, and on its edge is the 

 chaffinch, torn limb from limb and cleanly 

 plucked. Those four screaming demons clothed 

 in down are young Sparrow-hawks, and never- 

 satisfied things they are. We descend the tree, 

 just keeping in mind a rotten bough, and leave 

 the young ones to enjoy their feast. Yonder 

 on an ash-stump sits the female, quietly watch- 

 ing our movements, to return when we are 

 gone. 



The spot on which we lie is a haunt of the 

 Kestrel — a perpendicular limestone escarpment 

 which rushes sheer down fifty feet for a mile 

 along its front. Below is a flood of green, 

 patched by the mellower tints of rolling crops. 

 On one hand mosses and silvery sands stretch 

 away far beneath us, and on the other rise the 

 mist-capped peaks of the hills. What a scene 

 of peace and contentment ! White farmhouses 

 lie like spots of sunlight on the dark green 

 landscape, each embowered in its clump of 



