Moorhens 195 



hare in the fields — to escape from pursuit, rather than on 

 their wings. Through the thick green flags they creep, 

 and into the holes the water-rats have made, or behind 

 and under the natural cavities in the stoles upon the bank. 

 They beat the water with their wings when they rise, 

 showering the spray on either side, for a short distance, 

 and then, ascending on an inclined plane, fly heavily, but 

 with some strength. 



At night is their time of journeying, when they come 

 down from the lake or return to it, uttering a weird cry in 

 the darkened atmosphere. By day, as they swim to and 

 fro in the flags and through the duckweed, shaded from 

 the hot sun under willow and aspen, they call to each 

 other, not unpleasantly, a note something like ' croog,' 

 with a twirl of the ' r.' In summer they do not move far 

 from the place they have chosen to breed in : in the frosts 

 of winter they work their way up the brooks, or fly at 

 night, but usually come back to the old spot. The dab- 

 chick, a slender bird, haunts the pond here too, diving 

 even more quickly than the moorhen. 



Nut-tree bushes grow along the bank of the brook on 

 this side — the nuts are a smaller sort than usual ; and 

 beside the wet ditch within the mound and on the ' shore,' 

 wherever the scythe has not reached, the meadow-sweet 

 rears its pale flowers. At evening, if it be sultry, and on 

 some days, especially before a thunderstorm, the whole 

 mead is full of the fragrance of this plant, which lines the 

 inside ditch almost everywhere. So heavy and powerful 

 is its odour that the still motionless air between the thick 

 hedges becomes oppressive, and it is a relief to issue forth 

 into the open fields away from the perfume and the brood- 

 ing heat. But by day it is pleasant to linger in the 

 shadow and inhale its sweetness — if you are not nervous 



o 2 



