HIGH NOON AT WIMBLEDON 
133 
Ky-euh, ky-euk, is repeated five times from the oak in the pasture. 
Five times more, and five times yet again. There is an answer- 
ing ky-euk from the coppice. Then the bird of green and crimson 
crosses the open space, with low, heavy, undulating flight, and 
disappears at the foot of a tree in the background. What an 
intense surprise to look round a few minutes later, and find that 
he is only a yard away, and is about to climb a tree ; the 
magnificent “ yaffle ” within three feet of the spectator ! Remain 
motionless, this is the chance of a lifetime. The yaffle props 
himself on the trunk with his tail, clasps the bark with his toes, 
two backwards and two forwards, and gets ready his straight, 
wedge-shaped bill. The crimson head and moustache, the olive- 
green back, and the greens and yellows of his undersides, are 
beautifully reflected in the sunlight. The eye glitters from the 
midst of a great black streak which reaches to the bill. Soon 
the beak will be tapping on the decayed timbers and driving out 
the frightened insects ; the sticky tongue will have work enough 
to do. Alas, the wary yaffle has seen the onlooker, and with a 
repetition of the laboured curves he vanishes to another tree. A 
little stealthy stalking brings him in view again, as he is 
cautiously working a branch from end to end. This proceeding 
takes a minute or two, during which the bird is more than half 
the time hidden. His motions, too, are so agile that they do 
not permit so careful an examination as before. For some hours 
the woodpecker breaks out at intervals, ky-euk, followed by the 
tack, tack, tack, on the bark ; ky-euk, tack, tack, tack. Wood- 
peckers have now been on the Common two years, and since the 
bird is one of half-a-dozen species which never migrate, we may 
hope, in the absence of severe winters, to enjoy his presence for 
many years to come. 
The ditch beneath the oak is matted with ivy-leaved crow- 
foot, rank persicarias, and gipsywort with pale lilac streaks on 
its petals. Fifty yards away is the Beverley, now very shallow. 
On its banks are the red flowers of the great hair)^ willow herb, 
the purple tassels of the tufted vetch, and the white umbels of 
the hemlock. The hemlock has a round, spotted stem and leaves 
of the colour of verdigris, which, when crushed, emit a mouse- 
like odour. On a tiny eyot, a clump of celery-leaved, or cursed, 
crowfoot luxuriates. Two long-tailed tits, the tumblers and 
tight-rope-dancers of the feathered tribes, go dancing and 
skipping along the hedge, toying with each other as they go, for 
the mere pleasure of living. Back in the copse yonder is one of 
their deep, domed, lichen-coated nests, torn and desecrated — 
some villain destroyed the structure before the birds could breed. 
Across the brook, a pair of cole tits have fixed the abode in a 
hollow stump : this fact is learnt by patiently watching the 
carrying of worms to the spot. But the cock is extremely sus- 
picious, and will not come boldly out of the foliage. He makes 
a tremendous noise, if-hee, chee, chee, chee, and is so distressed 
that it is a long time before a glance can be obtained of his 
