120 NATURE AND WOODCRAFT. 



a Ruin — a ruin with all its monastic associations 

 and hoar. When the red deer and the wolf 

 roamed along the fell- side, it formed a Hospice. 

 Later it was the meagre shelter of an Anchorite 

 — a Recluse. In it he lived, harmless and un- 

 offending. He knew well the times and sea- 

 sons, gathered flowers and boughs and berries 

 about his lone home, and talked with the 

 animals and birds. The latter he fed daily ; 

 the former learned to confide in him. He 

 dug ground-nuts for the badgers ; he hoarded 

 for the mice and squirrels ; rabbits rustled 

 away, though not terrified. Near his haunts 

 they found green corn-stalks. Hares looked 

 from the green brackens and skipped in the 

 moonlight. Even the bead-eyed weasels lived 

 with him among the stones. Only the fox 

 never came near. 



The stones were old and hoar and lichened; 

 the same might have been said of him. He 

 loved everything, and was loved by all. But, 

 like the Ruin, he too passed away. When the 

 berries of the Deadly Nightshade came and the 

 leaves fell, he seared and died. Under that 

 mound he is still a Recluse— the Spirit of the 

 Wood. But this is a strange dead thing. We 



