194 Wild Life in a Southern County 



meadows here he stalks about in the very middle of the 

 great field, far out of reach of the gun. If ever he ventures 

 to the brook, it is not till after a careful survey from the 

 fir tree, his tower of observation ; and, when in the brook, 

 his long neck is every now and then extended, that he 

 may gaze above the banks. 



By the gateway, reached by crossing a rude bridge for 

 the waggons, wild hops festoon the thickets. Behind the 

 maple bushes in the corner the water of the pond, over- 

 hung with willow, is dark — almost black in the depth of 

 shadow. Out of it a narrow and swift current runs into 

 that slow straight brook which bounds the right side of 

 the meadow. Here in the long grass and rushes growing 

 luxuriantly between the underwood lurk the moorhens, 

 building their nests on bunches of rushes against the bank 

 and almost level with the water. Though but barely 

 hatched, and chips of shell clinging to their backs, the 

 tiny fledglings swim at once if alarmed. When a little 

 older they creep about on the miniature terraces formed 

 along the banks by the constant running to and fro of 

 water-rats, or stand on a broken branch bent down by its 

 own weight into the water, yet still attached to the stem, 

 puffing up their dark feathers like a black ball. 



If all be quiet, the moorhens come out now and then 

 into the meadow ; and then, as they stand upright out of 

 the water, the peculiar way in which their tails, white 

 marked, are turned upwards is visible. The bill is of a 

 fine colour — almost the ' orange-tawny ' of the blackbird, 

 set in thick red coral at its base. Under the shallow 

 water at the mouth of the pond the marks of their feet on 

 the mud may be traced : they run swiftly, and depend 

 upon that speed and the skilful tricks they practise in 

 diving — turning back and dodging under water like a 



