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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..14f9cac --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #60041 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/60041) diff --git a/old/60041-8.txt b/old/60041-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2908754..0000000 --- a/old/60041-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9414 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Hampshire Days, by W. H. Hudson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Hampshire Days - -Author: W. H. Hudson - -Release Date: August 2, 2019 [EBook #60041] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HAMPSHIRE DAYS *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines - - - - - - - - - - HAMPSHIRE - DAYS - - - BY - - W. H. HUDSON - - - - 1923 - J. M. DENT & SONS LTD. - LONDON & TORONTO - PARIS: J. M. DENT ET FILS - - - - -All rights reserved - - -PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN - - - - - INSCRIBED TO - SIR EDWARD AND LADY GREY - NORTHUMBRIANS - WITH HAMPSHIRE WRITTEN IN THEIR HEARTS - - - - -CONTENTS - - -CHAPTER I. - -Autumn in the New Forest--Red colour in mammals--November mildness--A -house by the Boldre--An ideal spot for small birds--Abundance of -nests--Small mammals and the weasel's part--Voles and mice--Hornet -and bank-vole--Young shrews--A squirrel's visit--Green woodpecker's -drumming-tree--Drumming of other species--Beauty of great spotted -woodpecker--The cuckoo controversy--A cuckoo in a robin's -nest--Behaviour of the cuckoo--Extreme irritability--Manner of -ejecting eggs and birds from the nest--Loss of -irritability--Insensibility of the parent robins--Discourse on -mistaken kindness, pain and death in nature, the annual destruction -of bird life, and the young cuckoo's instinct. - - -CHAPTER II. - -Between the Boldre and the Exe--Abuse of the New Forest--Character of -the population--New Forest code and conscience--A radical change -foreshadowed--Tenacity of the Forest fly--Oak woods of -Beaulieu--Swallow and pike--Charm of Beaulieu--Instinctive love of -open spaces--A fragrant -heath--Nightjars--Snipe--Redshanks--Pewits--Cause of sympathy with -animals--Grasshopper and spider--A rapacious fly--Melancholy -moods--Evening on the heath--"World-strangeness"--Pixie mounds--Death -and burial--The dead in the barrows--Their fear of the living. - - -CHAPTER III. - -A favourite New Forest haunt--Summertide--Young blackbird's -call--Abundance of blackbirds and thrushes, and destruction of -young--Starlings breeding--The good done by starlings--Perfume of the -honeysuckle--Beauty of the hedge rose--Cult of the rose--Lesser -whitethroat--His low song--Common and lesser whitethroat--In the -woods--A sheet of bracken--Effect of broken surfaces--Roman mosaics -at Silchester--Why mosaics give pleasure--Woodland birds--Sound of -insect life--Abundance of flies--Sufferings of cattle--Dark -Water--Biting and teasing flies--Feeding the fishes and fiddlers with -flies. - - -CHAPTER IV. - -The stag-beetle--Evening flight--Appearance on the wing--Seeking a -mate--Stag and doe in a hedge--The plough-man and the beetle--A -stag-beetle's fate--Concerning tenacity of life--Life appearances -after death--A serpent's skin--A dead glow-worm's light--Little -summer tragedies--A snaky spot--An adder's basking-place--Watching -adders--The adder's senses--Adder's habits not well known--A pair of -anxious pewits--A dead young pewit--Animals without knowledge of -death--Removal of the dead by ants--Gould's observations on ants. - - -CHAPTER V. - -Cessation of song--Oak woods less silent than others--Mixed -gatherings of birds in oak woods--Abundance of -caterpillars--Rapacious insects--Wood ants--Alarm cries of woodland -birds--Weasel and small birds--Fascination--Weasel and short-tailed -vole--Account of Egyptian cats fascinated by fire--Rabbits and -stoats--Mystery of fascination--Cases of pre-natal -suggestion--Hampshire pigs fascinated by fire--Conjectures as to the -origin of fascination--A dead squirrel--A squirrel's fatal -leap--Fleas large and small--Shrew and fleas--Fleas in woods--The -squirrel's disposition--Food-hiding habit in animals--Memory in -squirrels and dogs--The lower kind of memory. - - -CHAPTER VI. - -Insects in Britain--Meadow ants--The indoor view of insect -life--Insects in visible nature--The humming-bird hawk-moth and the -parson lepidopterist--Rarity of death's-head moth--Hawk-moth and -meadow-pipit--Silver-washed fritillaries on bracken--Flight of the -white admiral butterfly--Dragon-flies--Want of English names--A -water-keeper on dragon-flies--Moses Harris--Why moths have English -names--Origin of the dragon-fly's bad reputation--_Cordulegaster -annulatus_--_Calopteryx virgo_--Dragon-flies -congregated--Glow-worm--Firefly and glow-worm compared--Variability -in light--The insect's attitude when shining--Supposed use of the -light--Hornets--A long-remembered sting--The hornet local in -England--A splendid insect--Insects on ivy blossoms in autumn. - - -CHAPTER VII. - -Great and greatest among insects--Our feeling for insect -music--Crickets and grasshoppers--_Cicada anglica_--_Locusta -viridissima_--Character of its music--Colony of green -grasshoppers--Harewood Forest--Purple emperor--Grasshoppers' musical -contests--The naturalist mocked--Female -_viridissima_--Over-elaboration in the male--Habits of female--Wooing -of the male by the female. - - -CHAPTER VIII. - -Hampshire, north and south--A spot abounding in life--Lyndhurst--A -white spider--Wooing spider's antics--A New Forest little boy--Blonde -gipsies--The boy and the spider--A distant world of spiders--Selborne -and its visitors--Selborne revisited--An owl at Alton--A wagtail at -the Wakes--The cockerel and the martin--Heat at Selborne--House -crickets--Gilbert White on crickets--A colony of field -crickets--Water plants--Musk mallow--Girl buntings at -Selborne--Evening gatherings of swifts at -Selborne--Locustidę--_Thamnotrizon cinereus_--English names -wanted--Black grasshopper's habits and disposition--Its abundance at -Selborne. - - -CHAPTER IX. - -The Selborne atmosphere--Unhealthy faces--Selborne Common--Character -of scenery--Wheatham Hill--Hampshire village churches--Gilbert -White's strictures--Churches big and little--The peasants' religious -feeling--Charm of old village churches--Seeking Priors Dean--Privett -church--Blackmoor church--Churchyards--Change in gravestones--Beauty -of old gravestones--Red alga on gravestones--Yew trees in -churchyards--British dragon-tree--Farringdon village and -yew--Crowhurst yew--Hurstbourne Priors yew--How yew trees are injured. - - -CHAPTER X. - -Wolmer Forest--Charm of contrast and novelty in scenery--Aspect of -Wolmer--Heath and pine--Colour of water and soil--An old woman's -recollections--Story of the "Selborne mob"--Past and present times -compared--Hollywater Clump--Age of trees--Bird life in the -forest--Teal in their breeding haunts--Boys in the forest--Story of -the horn-blower. - - -CHAPTER XI. - -The Hampshire people--Racial differences in neighbouring counties--A -neglected subject--Inhabitants of towns--Gentry and peasantry--Four -distinct types--The common blonde type--Lean women--Deleterious -effects of tea-drinking--A shepherd's testimony--A mixed race--The -Anglo-Saxon--Case of reversion of type--Un-Saxon character of the -British--Dark-eyed Hampshire people--Racial feeling with regard to -eye-colours--The Iberian type--Its persistence--Character of the -small dark man--Dark and blonde children--A dark village child. - - -CHAPTER XII. - -Test and Itchen--Vegetation--Riverside villages--The cottage by the -river--Itchen valley--Blossoming limes--Bird -visitors--Goldfinch--Cirl bunting--Song--Plumage--Three common river -birds--Coots--Moor-hen and nest--Little grebes' struggles--Male -grebe's devotion--Parent coot's wisdom--A more or less happy -family--Dogged little grebes--Grebes training their young--Fishing -birds and fascination. - - -CHAPTER XIII. - -Morning in the valley--Abundance of swifts--Unlikeness to other -birds--Mayfly and swallows--Mayfly and swift--Bad weather and -hail--Swallows in the rain--Sand martins--An orphaned -blackbird--Tamed by feeding--Survival of gregarious instinct in young -blackbirds--Blackbird's good-night--Cirl buntings--Breeding habits -and language--Habits of the young--Reed bunting--Beautiful -weather--The oak in August. - - -CHAPTER XIV. - -Yellow flowers--Family likeness in flavours and scents--_Mimulus -luteus_--Flowers in church decoration--Effect of -association--_Mimulus luteus_ as a British plant--A rule as to -naturalised plants wanted--A visit to Swarraton--Changes since -Gilbert White's day--"Wild musk"--Bird life on the downs--Turtle-dove -nestlings--Blue skin in doves--A boy naturalist--Birds at the -cottage--The wren's sun-bath--Wild fruits ripen--An old chalk -pit--Birds and elderberries--Past and present times compared--Calm -days--Migration of swallows--Conclusion. - - - - -{1} - -HAMPSHIRE DAYS - - -CHAPTER I - -Autumn in the New Forest--Red colour in mammals--November mildness--A -house by the Boldre--An ideal spot for small birds--Abundance of -nests--Small mammals and the weasel's part--Voles and mice--Hornet -and bank-vole--Young shrews--A squirrel's visit--Green woodpecker's -drumming-tree--Drumming of other species--Beauty of great spotted -woodpecker--The cuckoo controversy--A cuckoo in a robin's -nest--Behaviour of the cuckoo--Extreme irritability--Manner of -ejecting eggs and birds from the nest--Loss of -irritability--Insensibility of the parent robins--Discourse on -mistaken kindness, pain and death in nature, the annual destruction -of bird life, and the young cuckoo's instinct. - - -Here, by chance, in the early days of December 1902, at the very spot -where my book begins, I am about to bring it to an end. - -A few days ago, coming hither from the higher country at Silchester, -where the trees were already nearly bare, I was surprised to find the -oak woods of this lower southern part of the New Forest still in -their full autumnal foliage. Even now, so late in the year, after -many successive days and nights of rain and wind, they are in leaf -still: everywhere the woods are yellow, here where the oak -predominates; the stronger golden-red and russet tints of the beech -are vanished. We have rain and wind on most days, or rather mist and -rain by day and wind with storms of rain by night; days, too, or -parts of days, when it {2} is very dark and still, and when there is -a universal greyness in earth and sky. At such times, seen against -the distant slaty darkness or in the blue-grey misty atmosphere, the -yellow woods look almost more beautiful than in fine weather. - -The wet woodland roads and paths are everywhere strewn, and in places -buried deep in fallen leaves--yellow, red, and russet; and this -colour is continued under the trees all through the woods, where the -dead bracken has now taken that deep tint which it will keep so long -as there is rain or mist to wet it for the next four or five months. -Dead bracken with dead leaves on a reddish soil; and where the woods -are fir, the ground is carpeted with lately-fallen needles of a -chestnut red, which brightens almost to orange in the rain. Now, at -this season, in this universal redness of the earth where trees and -bracken grow, we see that Nature is justified in having given that -colour--red and reddish-yellow--to all or to most of her woodland -mammals. Fox and foumart and weasel and stoat; the hare too; the -bright squirrel; the dormouse and harvest-mouse; the bank-vole and -the wood-mouse. Even the common shrew and lesser shrew, though they -rarely come out by day, have a reddish tinge on their fur. -Water-shrew and water-vole inhabit the banks of streams, and are -safer without such a colour; the dark grey badger is strictly a night -rover. - -[Sidenote: Autumn in the New Forest] - -Sometimes about noon the clouds grow thin in that part of the sky, -low down, where the sun is, and a pale gleam of sunlight filters -through; even a {3} patch of lucid blue sky sometimes becomes visible -for a while: but the light soon fades; after mid-day the dimness -increases, and before long one begins to think that evening has come. -Withal it is singularly mild. One could almost imagine in this -season of mist and wet and soft airs in late November that this is a -land where days grew short and dark indeed, but where winter comes -not, and the sensation of cold is unknown. It is pleasant to be out -of doors in such weather, to stand in the coloured woods listening to -that autumn sound of tits and other little birds wandering through -the high trees in straggling parties, talking and calling to one -another in their small sharp voices. Or to walk by the Boldre, or, -as some call it, the Lymington, a slow, tame stream in summer, -invisible till you are close to it; but now, in flood, the trees that -grow on its banks and hid it in summer are seen standing deep in a -broad, rushing, noisy river. - -The woodpecker's laugh has the same careless happy sound as in -summer: it is scarcely light in the morning before the small wren -pours out his sharp bright lyric outside my window; it is time, he -tells me, to light my candle and get up. The starlings are about the -house all day long, vocal even in the rain, carrying on their -perpetual starling conversation--talk and song and recitative; a sort -of bird-Yiddish, with fluty fragments of melody stolen from the -blackbird, and whistle and click and the music of the triangle thrown -in to give variety. So mild is it that in the blackness of night I -{4} sometimes wander into the forest paths and by furzy heaths and -hedges to listen for the delicate shrill music of our late chirper in -the thickets, our _Thamnotrizon_, about which I shall write later; -and look, too, for a late glow-worm shining in some wet green place. -Late in October I found one in daylight, creeping about in the grass -on Selborne Hill; and some few, left unmarried, may shine much later. -And as to the shade-loving grasshopper or leaf cricket, he sings, we -know, on mild evenings in November. But I saw no green lamp in the -herbage, and I heard only that nightly music of the tawny owl, -fluting and hallooing far and near, bird answering bird in the oak -woods all along the swollen stream from Brockenhurst to Boldre. - -This race of wood owls perhaps have exceptionally strong voices: -Wise, in his book on the New Forest, says that their hooting can be -heard on a still autumn evening a distance of two miles. I have no -doubt they can be heard a good mile. - -[Sidenote: A house by the Boldre] - -But it is of this, to a bird lover, delectable spot in the best -bird-months of April, May, and June that I have to write. The house, -too, that gave me shelter must be spoken of; for never have I known -any human habitation, in a land where people are discovered dwelling -in so many secret, green, out-of-the-world places, which had so much -of nature in and about it. Grown-up and young people were in it, and -children too, but they were girls, and had always quite spontaneously -practised what I had preached--pet nothing and persecute nothing. -There {5} was no boy to disturb the wild creatures with his hunting -instincts and loud noises; no dog, no cat, nor any domestic creature -except the placid cows and fowls which supplied the household with -milk and eggs. A small old picturesque red-brick house with -high-pitched roof and tall chimneys, a great part of it overrun with -ivy and creepers, the walls and tiled roof stained by time and -many-coloured lichen to a richly variegated greyish red. The date of -the house, cut in a stone tablet in one of the rooms, was 1692. In -front there was no lawn, but a walled plot of ground with old, once -ornamental trees and bushes symmetrically placed--yews, both -spreading and cypress-shaped Irish yew, and tall tapering juniper, -and arbor vitę; it was a sort of formal garden which had long thrown -off its formality. In a corner of the ground by the side of these -dark plants were laurel, syringa, and lilac bushes, and among these -such wildings as thorn, elder and bramble had grown up, flourishing -greatly, and making of that flowery spot a tangled thicket. At the -side of the house there was another plot of ground, grass-grown, -which had once been the orchard, and still had a few ancient apple -and pear trees, nearly past bearing, with good nesting-holes for the -tits and starlings in their decayed mossy trunks. There were also a -few old ivied shade-trees--chestnuts, fir, and evergreen oak. - -Best of all (for the birds) were the small old half-ruined outhouses -which had remained from the distant days when the place, originally a -manor, {6} had been turned into a farm-house. They were here and -there, scattered about, outside the enclosure, ivy-grown, each -looking as old and weather-stained and in harmony with its -surroundings as the house itself--the small tumble-down barns, the -cow-sheds, the pig-house, the granary with open door and the wooden -staircase falling to pieces. All was surrounded by old oak woods, -and the river was close by. It was an ideal spot for small birds. I -have never in England seen so many breeding close together. The -commoner species were extraordinarily abundant. Chaffinch and -greenfinch; blackbird, throstle and missel-thrush; swallow and -martin, and common and lesser whitethroat; garden warbler and -blackcap; robin, dunnock, wren, flycatcher, pied wagtail, starling, -and sparrow;--one could go round and put one's hand into half a dozen -nests of almost any of these species. And very many of them had -become partial to the old buildings: even in closed rooms where it -was nearly dark, not only wrens, robins, tits, and wagtails, but -blackbirds and throstles and chaffinches were breeding, building on -beams and in or on the old nests of swallows and martins. The -hawfinch and bullfinch were also there, the last rearing its brood -within eight yards of the front door. One of his two nearest -neighbours was a gold-crested wren. When the minute bird was sitting -on her eggs, in her little cradle-nest suspended to a spray of the -yew, every day I would pull the branch down so that we might all -enjoy the sight of the little fairy bird in her fairy nest which she -refused to quit. The {7} other next-door neighbour of the bullfinch -was the long-tailed tit, which built its beautiful little nest on a -terminal spray of another yew, ten or twelve yards from the door; and -this small creature would also let us pull the branch down and peep -into her well-feathered interior. - -[Sidenote: Abundance of nests] - -It seemed that, from long immunity from persecution, all these small -birds had quite lost their fear of human beings; but in late May and -in June, when many young birds were out of the nest, one had to walk -warily in the grass for fear of putting a foot on some little -speckled creature patiently waiting to be visited and fed by its -parents. - -Nor were there birds only. Little beasties were also quite abundant; -but they were of species that did no harm (at all events there), and -the weasel would come from time to time to thin them down. Money is -paid to mole-catcher and rat-catcher; the weasel charges you nothing: -he takes it out in kind. And even as the jungle tiger, burning -bright, and the roaring lion strike with panic the wild cattle and -antelopes and herds of swine, so does this miniature carnivore, this -fairy tiger of English homesteads and hedges, fill with trepidation -the small deer he hunts and slays with his needle teeth--Nature's -scourge sent out among her too prolific small rodents; her little -blood-letter who relieves her and restores the balance. And -therefore he, too, with his flat serpent head and fiery killing soul, -is a "dear" creature, being, like the poet's web-footed beasts of an -earlier epoch, "part of a general plan." - -{8} - -The most abundant of the small furred creatures were the two -short-tailed voles--field-vole and bank-vole; the last, in his bright -chestnut-red, the prettiest. Whenever I sat down for a few minutes -in the porch I would see one or more run across the stones from one -side, where masses of periwinkle grew against the house, to the other -side, where Virginia creeper, rose, and an old magnolia tree covered -the wall. One day at the back of the house by the scullery door I -noticed a swaying movement in a tall seeded stem of dock, and looking -down spied a wee harvest-mouse running and climbing nimbly on the -slender branchlets, feeding daintily on the seed, and looking like a -miniature squirrel on a miniature bush. - -Just there, close to the door, was a wood-pile, and the hornets had -made their nest in it. The year before they had made it in a loft in -the house, and before that in the old barn. The splendid insects -were coming and going all day, interfering with nobody and nobody -interfering with them; and when I put a plate of honey for them on -the logs close to their entrance they took no notice of it; but -by-and-by bank-voles and wood-mice came stealing out from among the -logs and fed on it until it was all gone. - -I was surprised, and could only suppose that the hornets did not -notice or discover the honey, because no such good thing was looked -for so close to their door. Away from home the hornet was quick to -discover anything sweet to the taste, and very ready to resent the -presence of any other creature at the table. - -{9} - -[Sidenote: Hornet and bank-vole] - -At the riverside, a few hundred yards from the house, I was sitting -in the shade of a large elm tree one day when I was visited by a big -hornet, who swept noisily down and settled on the trunk, four or five -feet above the ground. A quantity of sap had oozed out into a deep -cleft of the rough bark and had congealed there, and the hornet had -discovered it. Before he had been long feeding on it I saw a little -bank-vole come out from the roots of the tree and run up the trunk, -looking very pretty in his bright chestnut fur as he came into the -sunlight. Stealing up to the lower end of the cleft full of -thickened sap he too began feeding on it. The hornet, who was at the -upper end of the cleft, quite four inches apart from the vole, at -once stopped eating and regarded the intruder for some time, then -advanced towards him in a threatening attitude. The vole was -frightened at this, starting and erecting his hair, and once or twice -he tried to recover his courage and resume his feeding, but the -hornet still keeping up his hostile movements, he eventually slipped -quietly down and hid himself at the roots. When the hornet departed -he came out again and went to the sap. - -Wishing to see more, I spent most of that day and the day following -at the spot, and saw hornet and vole meet many times. If the vole -was at the sap when the hornet came he was at once driven off, and -when the hornet was there first the vole was never allowed to feed, -although on every occasion he tried to do so, stealing to his lower -place in the {10} gentlest way in order not to give offence, and -after beginning to feed affecting not to see that the other had left -off eating, and with raised head was regarding him with jealous eyes. - -Rarely have I looked on a prettier little comedy in wild life. - -But to return to the house. There was quite a happy family at that -spot by the back door where the hornets were. A numerous family of -shrews were reared, and the young, when they began exploring the -world, used to creep over the white stone by the threshold. The -girls would pick them up to feel their soft mole-like fur: the young -shrew is a gentle creature and does not attempt to bite. Some of the -more adventurous ones were always blundering into the empty -flowerpots heaped against the wall, and there they would remain -imprisoned until some person found and took them out. - -One morning, at half-past four o'clock, when I was lying awake -listening to the blackbird, a lively squirrel came dancing into the -open window of my bedroom on the first floor. There were writing -materials, flowers in glasses, and other objects on the ledge and -dressing-table there, and he frisked about among them, chattering, -wildly excited at seeing so many curious and pretty things, but he -upset nothing; and by-and-by he danced out again into the ivy -covering the wall on that side, throwing the colony of breeding -sparrows into a great state of consternation. - -[Sidenote: Drumming of woodpecker] - -The river was quite near the house--not half a {11} minute from the -front door, though hidden from sight by the trees on its banks. -Here, at the nearest point, there was an old half-dead dwarf oak -growing by the water and extending one horizontal branch a distance -of twenty feet over the stream. This was the favourite drumming-tree -of a green woodpecker, and at intervals through the day he would -visit it and drum half a dozen times or so. This drumming sounded so -loud that, following the valley down, I measured the distance it -could be heard and found it just one-third of a mile. At that -distance I could hear it distinctly; farther on, not at all. It -seemed almost incredible that the sound produced by so small a stick -as a woodpecker's beak striking a tree should be audible at that -distance. - -It is hardly to be doubted that the drumming is used as a love-call, -though it is often heard in late summer. It is, however, in early -spring and in the breeding season that it is oftenest heard, and I -have found that a good imitation of it will sometimes greatly excite -the bird. The same bird may be heard drumming here, there, and -everywhere in a wood or copse, the sound varying somewhat in -character and strength according to the wood; but each bird as a rule -has a favourite drumming-tree, and it probably angers him to hear -another bird at the spot. On one occasion, finding that a very -large, old, and apparently dying cedar in a wood was constantly used -by the woodpecker, I went to the spot and imitated the sound. Very -soon the bird came and begun drumming against me, close by. {12} I -responded, and again he drummed; and becoming more and more excited -he flew close to me, and passing from tree to tree drummed at every -spot he lighted on. - -The other species have the same habit of drumming on one tree. I -have noticed it in the small spotted, or banded, woodpecker; and have -observed that invariably after he has drummed two or three times the -female has come flying to him from some other part of the wood, and -the two birds have then both together uttered their loud chirping -notes and flown away. - -On revisiting the spot a year after I had heard the green woodpecker -drumming every day in the oak by the river, I found that he had -forsaken it, and that close by, on the other side of the stream, a -great spotted woodpecker had selected as his drumming-tree a very big -elm growing on the bank. He drummed on a large dead branch about -forty feet from the ground, and the sound he made was quite as loud -as that of the green bird. It may be that the two big woodpeckers, -who play equally well on the same instrument, are intolerant of one -another's presence, and that in this case the spotted bird had driven -the larger yaffle from his territory. - -[Sidenote: Our handsomest bird] - -One of the prettiest spots by the water was that very one where the -spotted bird was accustomed to come, and I often went there at noon -and sat for an hour on the grassy bank in the shade of the -drumming-tree. The river was but thirty to forty feet wide at that -spot, with masses of water forget-me-not growing on the opposite -bank, clearly reflected {13} in the sherry-coloured sunlit current -below. The trees were mostly oaks, in the young vivid green of early -June foliage. And one day when the sky, seen through that fresh -foliage, was without a stain of vapour in its pure azure, when the -wood was full of clear sunlight--so clear that silken spider webs, -thirty or forty feet high in the oaks, were visible as shining red -and blue and purple lines--the bird, after drumming high above my -head, flew to an oak tree just before me, and clinging vertically to -the bark on the high part of the trunk, remained there motionless for -some time. His statuesque attitude, as he sat with his head thrown -well back, the light glinting on his hard polished feathers, black -and white and crimson, the setting in which he appeared of greenest -translucent leaves and hoary bark and open sunlit space, all together -made him seem not only our handsomest woodpecker, but our most -beautiful bird. I had seen him at his best, and sitting there -motionless amid the wind-fluttered leaves, he was like a bird-figure -carved from some beautiful vari-coloured stone. - - -The most interesting events in animal life observed at this spot -relate to the cuckoo in the spring of 1900. Some time before this -Dr. Alfred Russel Wallace said, in the course of a talk we had, that -he very much wanted me to find out exactly what happened in a nest in -which a young cuckoo was hatched. It was, I replied, an old, old -story--what could I see, supposing I was lucky enough to find a nest -where I {14} could observe it properly, more than Jenner, Hancock, -Mrs. Hugh Blackburn, and perhaps other writers, had told us? Yes, it -was an old story, he said, and he wanted it told again by someone -else. People had lately been discrediting Jenner's account, and as -to the other chief authority I had named, one writer, a Dr. -Creighton, had said, "As for artists like Mrs. Blackburn, they can -draw what they please--all out of their own brains: we can't trust -them, or such as them." Sober-minded naturalists had come to regard -the habit and abnormal strength attributed to the newly-hatched -cuckoo as "not proven" or quite incredible; thus Seebohm had said, -"One feels inclined to class these narratives with the equally -well-authenticated stories of ghosts and other apparitions which -abound." - -Since my conversation with Dr. Wallace we have had more of these -strange narratives--the fables and ghost stories which the -unbelievers are compelled in the end to accept--and all that Dr. -Jenner or his assistant saw others have seen, and some observers have -even taken snapshots of the young cuckoo in the act of ejecting his -fellow-nestling. But it appears from all the accounts which I have -so far read, that in every case the observer was impatient and -interfered in the business by touching and irritating the young -cuckoo, by putting eggs and other objects on his back, and by making -other experiments. In the instance I am about to give there was no -interference by me or by the others who at intervals watched with me. - -{15} - -[Sidenote: A cuckoo in a robin's nest] - -A robin's nest with three robin's eggs and one of the cuckoo was -found in a low bank at the side of the small orchard on 19th May, -1900. The bird was incubating, and on the afternoon of 27th May the -cuckoo hatched out. Unfortunately I did not know how long incubation -had been going on before the 19th, but from the fact that the cuckoo -was first out, it seems probable that the parasite has this further -advantage of coming first from the shell. Long ago I found that this -was so in the case of the parasitical troupials of the genus -_Molothrus_ in South America. - -I kept a close watch on the nest for the rest of that afternoon and -the whole of the following day (the 28th), during which the young -cuckoo was lying in the bottom of the nest, helpless as a piece of -jelly with a little life in it, and with just strength enough in his -neck to lift his head and open his mouth; and then, after a second or -two, the wavering head would drop again. At eight o'clock next -morning (29th), I found that one robin had come out of the shell, and -one egg had been ejected and was lying a few inches below the nest on -the sloping bank. Yet the young cuckoo still appeared a weak, -helpless, jelly-like creature, as on the previous day. But he had -increased greatly in size. I believe that in forty-eight hours from -the time of hatching he had quite doubled his bulk, and had grown -darker, his naked skin being of a bluish-black colour. The robin, -thirty or more hours younger, was little more than half his size, and -had a pale, pinkish-yellow {16} skin, thinly clothed with a long -black down. The cuckoo occupied the middle of the deep, cup-shaped -nest, and his broad back, hollow in the middle, formed a sort of -false bottom; but there was a small space between the bird's sides -and the nest, and in this space or interstice the one unhatched egg -that still remained and the young robin were lying. - -During this day (29th) I observed that the pressure of the egg and -young robin against his sides irritated the cuckoo: he was -continually moving, jerking and wriggling his lumpish body this way -and that, as if to get away from the contact. At intervals this -irritation would reach its culminating point, and a series of -mechanical movements would begin, all working blindly but as surely -towards the end as if some devilish intelligence animated the -seemingly helpless infant parasite. - -Of the two objects in the nest the unhatched egg irritated him the -most. The young robin was soft, it yielded when pressed, and could -be made somehow to fit into the interstice; but the hard, round -shell, pressing against him like a pebble, was torture to him, and at -intervals became unendurable. Then would come that magical change in -him, when he seemed all at once to become possessed of a -preternatural power and intelligence, and then the blind struggle -down in the nest would begin. And after each struggle--each round it -might be called--the cuckoo would fall back again and lie in a state -of collapse, as if the mysterious virtue had gone out of him. But in -a very short time the pressure on his {17} side would begin again to -annoy him, then to torment him, and at last he would be wrought up to -a fresh effort. Thus in a space of eight minutes I saw him struggle -four separate times, with a period of collapse after each, to get rid -of the robin's egg; and each struggle involved a long series of -movements on his part. On each of these occasions the egg was pushed -or carried up to the wrong or upper side of the nest, with the result -that when the bird jerked the egg from him it rolled back into the -bottom of the nest. The statement is therefore erroneous that the -cuckoo knows at which side to throw the egg out. Of course he -_knows_ nothing, and, as a fact, he tries to throw the egg up as -often as down the slope. - -The process in each case was as follows: The pressure of the egg -against the cuckoo's side, as I have said, was a constant irritation; -but the irritability varied in degree in different parts of the body. -On the under parts it scarcely existed; its seat was chiefly on the -upper surface, beginning at the sides and increasing towards the -centre, and was greatest in the hollow of the back. When, in moving, -the egg got pushed up to the upper edge of his side, he would begin -to fidget more and more, and this would cause it to move round, and -so to increase the irritation by touching and pressing against other -parts. When all the bird's efforts to get away from the object had -only made matters worse, he would cease wriggling and squat down -lower and lower in the bottom of the nest, and the egg, forced up, -would finally roll right into the cavity in his back--the {18} most -irritable part of all. Whenever this occurred, a sudden change that -was like a fit would seize the bird; he would stiffen, rise in the -nest, his flabby muscles made rigid, and stand erect, his back in a -horizontal position, the head hanging down, the little naked wings -held up over the back. In that position he looked an ugly, lumpish -negro mannikin, standing on thinnest dwarf legs, his back bent, and -elbows stuck up above the hollow flat back. - -Once up on his small stiffened legs he would move backwards, firmly -grasping the hairs and hair-like fibres of the nest-lining, and never -swerving, until the rim of the cup-like structure was reached; and -then standing, with feet sometimes below and in some cases on the -rim, he would jerk his body, throwing the egg off or causing it to -roll off. After that he would fall back into the nest and lie quite -exhausted for some time, his jelly-like body rising and falling with -his breathing. - -These changes in the bird strongly reminded me of a person with an -epileptic fit, as I had been accustomed to see it on the pampas, -where, among the gauchos, epilepsy is one of the commonest -maladies;--the sudden rigidity of muscle in some weak, sickly, -flabby-looking person, the powerful grip of the hand, the strength in -struggling, exceeding that of a man in perfect health, and finally, -when this state is over, the weakness of complete exhaustion. - -I witnessed several struggles with the egg, but at last, in spite of -my watchfulness, I did not see it ejected. On returning after a very -short absence, {19} I found the egg had been thrown out and had -rolled down the bank, a distance of fourteen inches from the nest. - -The young cuckoo appeared to rest more quietly in the nest now, but -after a couple of hours the old fidgeting began again, and increased -until he was in the same restless state as before. The rapid growth -of the birds made the position more and more miserable for the -cuckoo, since the robin, thrust against the side of the nest, would -throw his head and neck across the cuckoo's back, and he could not -endure being touched there. And now a fresh succession of struggles -began, the whole process being just the same as when the egg was -struggled with. But it was not so easy with the young bird, not -because of its greater weight, but because it did not roll like the -egg and settle in the middle of the back; it would fall partly on to -the cuckoo's back and then slip off into the nest again. But success -came at last, after many failures. The robin was lying partly across -the cuckoo's neck, when, in moving its head, its little curved beak -came down and rested on the very centre of that irritable hollow in -the back of its foster-brother. Instantly the cuckoo pressed down -into the nest, shrinking away as if hot needles had pricked him, as -far as possible from the side where the robin was lying against him, -and this movement of course brought the robin more and more over him, -until he was thrown right upon the cuckoo's back. - -Instantly the rigid fit came on, and up rose the cuckoo, as if the -robin weighed no more than a feather {20} on him; and away backwards -he went, right up the nest, without a pause, and standing actually on -the rim, jerked his body, causing the robin to fall off, clean away -from the nest. It fell, in fact, on to a large dock leaf five inches -below the rim of the nest, and rested there. - -After getting rid of his burden the cuckoo continued in the same -position, perfectly rigid, for a space of five or six seconds, during -which it again and again violently jerked its body, as if it had the -feeling of the burden on it still. Then, the fit over, it fell back, -exhausted as usual. - -I had been singularly fortunate in witnessing the last scene and -conclusion of this little bloodless tragedy in a bird's nest, with -callow nestlings for _dramatis personę_, this innocent crime and -wrong, which is not a wrong since the cuckoo doesn't think it one. -It is a little curious to reflect that a similar act takes place -annually in tens of thousands of small birds' nests all over the -country, and that it is so rarely witnessed. - -Marvellous as the power of the young cuckoo is when the fit is on -him, it is of course limited, and when watching his actions I -concluded that it would be impossible for him to eject eggs and -nestlings from any thrush's nest. The blackbird's would be too deep, -and as to the throstle's, he could not move backwards up the sides of -the cup-like cavity on account of the smooth plastered surface. - -After having seen the young robin cast out I still refrained from -touching the nest, as there were yet {21} other things to observe. -One was the presence, very close to the nest, of the ejected -nestling--what would the parents do in the case? Before dealing with -that matter I shall conclude the history of the young cuckoo. - -Having got the nest to himself he rested very quietly, and it was not -till the following day (1st July) that I allowed myself to touch him. -He was, I found, still irritable, and when I put back the eggs he had -thrown out he was again miserable in the nest, and the struggle with -the eggs was renewed until he got rid of them as before. The next -day the irritability had almost gone, and in the afternoon he -suffered an egg or a pebble to remain in the nest with him without -jerking and wriggling about, and he made no further attempt to eject -it. This observation--the loss of irritability on the fifth day -after hatching--agrees with that of Mr. Craig, whose account was -printed in the _Feathered World_, 14th July, 1899. - -The young cuckoo grew rapidly and soon trod his nest into a broad -platform, on which he reposed, a conspicuous object in the scanty -herbage on the bank. We often visited and fed him, when he would -puff up his plumage and strike savagely at our hands, but at the same -time he would always gobble down the food we offered. In seventeen -days after being hatched he left the nest and took up his position in -an oak tree growing on the bank, and there the robins continued -feeding him for the next three days, after which we saw no more of -him. - -{22} - -I may add that in May 1901 a pair of robins built on the bank close -to where the nest had been made the previous year, and that in this -nest a cuckoo was also reared. The bird, when first seen, was -apparently about four or five days old, and it had the nest to -itself. Three ejected robin's eggs were lying on the bank a little -lower down. - -It is hardly to be doubted that the robins were the same birds that -had reared the cuckoo in the previous season; and it is highly -probable that the same cuckoo had returned to place her egg in their -nest. - -The end of the little history--the fate of the ejected nestling and -the attitude of the parent robins--remains to be told. When the -young cuckoo throws out the nestlings from nests in trees, hedges, -bushes, and reeds, the victims, as a rule, fall some distance to the -ground, or in the water, and are no more seen by the old birds. Here -the young robin, when ejected, fell a distance of but five or six -inches, and rested on a broad, bright green leaf, where it was an -exceedingly conspicuous object; and when the mother robin was on the -nest--and at this stage she was on it a greater part of the -time--warming that black-skinned, toad-like, spurious babe of hers, -her bright, intelligent eyes were looking full at the other one, just -beneath her, which she had grown in her body and had hatched with her -warmth, and was her very own. I watched her for hours; watched her -when warming the cuckoo, when she left the nest and when she returned -with food, and warmed it again, and never {23} once did she pay the -least attention to the outcast lying there so close to her. There, -on its green leaf, it remained, growing colder by degrees, hour by -hour, motionless, except when it lifted its head as if to receive -food, then dropped it again, and when, at intervals, it twitched its -body as if trying to move. During the evening even these slight -motions ceased, though that feeblest flame of life was not yet -extinguished; but in the morning it was dead and cold and stiff; and -just above it, her bright eyes on it, the mother robin sat on the -nest as before, warming her cuckoo. - -How amazing and almost incredible it seems that a being such as a -robin, intelligent above most birds as we are apt to think, should -prove in this instance to be a mere automaton! The case would, I -think, have been different if the ejected one had made a sound, since -there is nothing which more excites the parent bird, or which is more -instantly responded to, than the cry of hunger or distress of the -young. But at this early stage the nestling is voiceless--another -point in favour of the parasite. The sight of its young, we see, -slowly and dumbly dying, touches no chord in the parent: there is, in -fact, no recognition; once out of the nest it is no more than a -coloured leaf, or a bird-shaped pebble, or fragment of clay. - - -It happened that my young fellow-watchers, seeing that the ejected -robin if left there would inevitably perish, proposed to take it in -to feed and rear it--to save it, as they said; but I advised them not -to {24} attempt such a thing, but rather to spare the bird. To spare -it the misery they would inflict upon it by attempting to fill its -parents' place. They had, so far, never kept a caged bird, nor a pet -bird, and had no desire to keep one; all they desired to do in this -case was to save the little outcast from death--to rear it till it -was able to fly away and take care of itself. That was a difficult, -a well-nigh impossible task. The bird, at this early stage, required -to be fed at short intervals for about sixteen hours each day on a -peculiar kind of food, suited to its delicate stomach--chiefly small -caterpillars found in the herbage; and it also needed a sufficient -amount by day and night of that animal warmth which only the parent -bird could properly supply. They, not being robins, would give it -unsuitable food, feed it at improper times, and not keep it at the -right temperature, with the almost certain result that after -lingering a few days it would die in their hands. But if by giving a -great deal of time and much care they should succeed in rearing it, -their foundling would start his independent life so handicapped, -weakened in constitution by an indoor artificial bringing up, without -the training which all young birds receive from their parents after -quitting the nest, that it would be impossible for him to save -himself. If by chance he should survive until August, he would then -be set upon and killed by one of the adult robins already in -possession of the ground. Now, when a bird at maturity perishes, it -suffers in dying--sometimes very acutely; but if left to grow {25} -cold and fade out of life at this stage it can hardly be said to -suffer. It is no more conscious than a chick in the shell; take from -it the warmth that keeps it in being, and it drops back into -nothingness without knowing and, we may say, without feeling -anything. There may indeed be an incipient consciousness in that -small, soft brain in its early vegetative stage, a first faint -glimmer of bright light to be, and a slight sensation of numbness may -be actually felt as the body grows cold, but that would be all. - -[Sidenote: Mistaken kindness] - -Pain is so common in the world; and, owing to the softness and -sensitiveness induced in us by an indoor artificial life--since that -softness of our bodies reacts on our minds--we have come to a false -or an exaggerated idea of its importance, its _painfulness_, to put -it that way; and we should therefore be but making matters worse, or -rather making ourselves more miserable, by looking for and finding it -where it does not exist. - -The power to feel pain in any great degree comes into the bird's life -after this transitional period, and is greatest at maturity, when -consciousness and all the mental faculties are fully developed, -particularly the passion of fear, which plays continually on the -strings of the wild creature's heart with an ever varying touch, -producing the feeling in all degrees from the slight disquiet, which -is no sooner come than gone, to extremities of agonising terror. It -would perhaps have a wholesome effect on their young minds, and save -them from grieving over-much at the death of a newly-hatched robin, -if they {26} would consider this fact of the pain that is and must -be. Not the whole subject--the fact that as things are designed in -this world of sentient life there can be no good, no sweetness or -pleasure in life, nor peace and contentment and safety, nor happiness -and joy, nor any beauty or strength or lustre, nor any bright and -shining quality of body or mind, without pain, which is not an -accident nor an incident, nor something ancillary to life, but is -involved in and a part of life, of its very colour and texture. That -would be too long to speak about; all I meant was to consider that -small part of the fact, the necessary pain to and destruction of the -bird life around them and in the country generally. - -[Sidenote: Annual bird-mortality] - -Here, for instance, without going farther than a hundred yards from -the house in any direction, they could put their hands in nests in -trees and bushes, and on the ground, and in the ivy, and in the old -outhouse, and handle and count about one hundred and thirty young -birds not yet able to fly. Probably more than twice that number -would be successfully reared during the season. How many, then, -would be reared in the whole parish! How many in the entire New -Forest district, in the whole county of Hampshire, in the entire -kingdom! Yet when summer came round again they would find no more -birds than they had now. And so it would be in all places; all that -incalculable increase would have perished. Many millions would be -devoured by rapacious birds and beasts; millions more would perish of -hunger and cold; millions of migrants would fall by the {27} way, -some in the sea and some on land; those that returned from distant -regions would be but a remnant, and the residents that survived -through the winter, these, too, would be nothing but a remnant. It -is not only that this inconceivable amount of bird life must be -destroyed each year, but we cannot suppose that death is not a -painful process. In a vast majority of cases, whether the bird -slowly perishes of hunger and weakness, or is pursued and captured by -birds and beasts of prey, or is driven by cold adverse winds and -storms into the waves, the pain, the agony must be great. The least -painful death is undoubtedly that of the bird that, weakened by want -of sustenance, dies by night of cold in severe weather. It is indeed -most like the death of the nestling, but a few hours out of the -shell, which has been thrown out of the nest, and which soon grows -cold, and dozes its feeble, unconscious life away. - -We may say, then, that of all the thousand forms of death which -Nature has invented to keep her too rapidly multiplying creatures -within bounds, that which is brought about by the singular instinct -of the young cuckoo in the nest is the most merciful or the least -painful. - -I am not sure that I said all this, or marshalled fact and argument -in the precise order in which they are here set down. I fancy not, -as it seems more than could well have been spoken while we were -standing there in the late evening sunlight by that primrose bank, -looking down on the little {28} flesh-coloured mite in its scant -clothing of black down, fading out of life on its cold green leaf. -But what was said did not fail of its effect, so that my young -tender-hearted hearers, who had begun to listen with moist eyes, -secretly accusing me perhaps of want of feeling, were content in the -end to let it be--to go away and leave it to its fate in that -mysterious green world we, too, live in and do not understand, in -which life and death and pleasure and pain are interwoven light and -shade. - - - - -{29} - -CHAPTER II - -Between the Boldre and the Exe--Abuse of the New Forest--Character of -the population--New Forest code and conscience--A radical change -foreshadowed--Tenacity of the Forest fly--Oak woods of -Beaulieu--Swallow and pike--Charm of Beaulieu--Instinctive love of -open spaces--A fragrant -heath--Nightjars--Snipe--Redshanks--Pewits--Cause of sympathy with -animals--Grasshopper and spider--A rapacious fly--Melancholy -moods--Evening on the heath--"World-strangeness"--Pixie mounds--Death -and burial--The dead in the barrows--Their fear of the living. - - -Between the Boldre and the Exe, or Beaulieu river, there is a stretch -of country in most part flat and featureless. It is one of those -parts of the Forest which have a bare and desolate aspect; here in -places you can go a mile and not find a tree or bush, where nothing -grows but a starved-looking heath, scarcely ankle-deep. Wild life in -such places is represented by a few meadow-pipits and small lizards. -There is no doubt that this barrenness and naked appearance is the -result of the perpetual cutting of heath and gorse, and the removal -of the thin surface soil for fuel. - -Those who do not know the New Forest, or know it only as a -collecting- or happy hunting-ground of eggers and "lepidopterists," -or as artists in search of paintable woodland scenery know it, and -others who make it a summer holiday resort, may say that this abuse -is one which might and should be remedied. {30} They would be -mistaken. What I and a few others who use their senses see and hear -in this or that spot, is, in every case, a very small matter, a -visible but an infinitesimal part of that abuse of the New Forest -which is old and chronic, and operates always, and is common to the -whole area, and, as things are, irremediable. To discover and -denounce certain things which ought not to be, to rail against -verderers, who are after all what they cannot help being, is about as -profitable as it would be to "damn the nature of things." - -It must be borne in mind that the Forest area has a considerable -population composed of commoners, squatters, private owners, who have -inherited or purchased lands originally filched from the Forest; and -of a large number of persons who reside mostly in the villages, and -are private residents, publicans, shopkeepers, and lodging-house -keepers. All these people have one object in common--to get as much -as they can out of the Forest. It is true that a large proportion of -them, especially those who live in the villages, which are now -rapidly increasing their populations, are supposed not to have any -Forest rights; but they do as a fact get something out of it; and we -may say that, generally, all the people in the Forest dine at one -table, and all get a helping out of most of the dishes going, though -the first and biggest helpings are for the favoured guests. - -[Sidenote: New Forest conscience] - -Those who have inherited rights have indeed come to look on the -Forest as in a sense their property. What is given or handed over to -them is not in their {31} view their proper share: they take this -openly, and get the balance the best way they can--in the dark -generally. It is not dishonest to help yourself to what belongs to -you; and they must live--must have their whack. They have, in fact, -their own moral code, their New Forest conscience, just as other -men--miners, labourers on the land, tradesmen, gamekeepers, members -of the Stock Exchange, for instance--have each their corporate code -and conscience. It may not be the general or the ideal or -speculative conscience, but it is what may be called their working -conscience. One proof that much goes on in the dark, or that much is -winked at, is the paucity of all wild life which is worth any man's -while to take in a district where pretty well everything is protected -on paper. Game, furred and feathered, would not exist at all but for -the private estates scattered through the Forest, in which game is -preserved, and from which the depleted Forest lands are constantly -being restocked. Again, in all this most favourable country no rare -or beautiful species may be found: it would be safer for the hobby, -the golden oriole, the hoopoe, the harrier, to nest in a metropolitan -park than in the loneliest wood between the Avon and Southampton -Water. To introduce any new species, from the biggest--the -capercailzie and the great bustard--to the smallest quail, or any -small passerine bird with a spot of brilliant colour on its plumage, -would be impossible. - -The New Forest people are, in fact, just what circumstances have made -them. Like all organised {32} beings, they are the creatures of, and -subject to, the conditions they exist in; and they cannot be other -than they are--namely, parasites on the Forest. And, what is more, -they cannot be educated, or preached, or worried out of their -ingrained parasitical habits and ways of thought. They have had -centuries--long centuries--of practice to make them cunning, and the -effect of more stringent regulations than those now in use would only -be to polish and put a better edge on that weapon which Nature has -given them to fight with. - -This being the conclusion, namely, that "things are what they are, -and the consequences of them will be what they will be," some of my -readers, especially those in the New Forest, may ask, Why, then, say -anything about it? why not follow the others who have written books -and books and books about the New Forest, books big and books little, -from Wise, his classic, and the Victoria History, down to the long -row of little rosy guide-books? They saw nothing of all this; or if -they saw un-pleasant things they thought it better to hold their -tongues, or pens, than to make people uncomfortable. - -I confess it would be a mistake, a mere waste of words, to bring -these hidden things to light if it could be believed that the New -Forest, in its condition and management, will continue for any length -of time to be what it is and has been--just that and nothing more. A -district in England, it is true, but out of the way, remote, a spot -to be visited once or twice in a lifetime just to look at the -scenery, {33} like Lundy or the Scilly Isles or the Orkneys. But it -cannot be believed. The place itself, its curious tangle of -ownership--government by and rights of the crown, of private owners, -commoners, and the public--is what it has always been; but many -persons have now come to think and to believe that the time is -approaching when there will be a disentanglement and a change. - -[Sidenote: A change foreshadowed] - -The Forest has been known and loved by a limited number of persons -always; the general public have only discovered it in recent years. -For one visitor twenty years ago there are scores, probably hundreds, -to-day. And year by year, as motoring becomes more common, and as -cycling from being general grows, as it will, to be universal, the -flow of visitors to the Forest will go on at an ever-increasing rate, -and the hundreds of to-day will be thousands in five years' time. -With these modern means of locomotion, there is no more attractive -spot than this hundred and fifty square miles of level country which -contains the most beautiful forest scenery in England. And as it -grows in favour in all the country as a place of recreation and -refreshment, the subject of its condition and management, and the -ways of its inhabitants, will receive an increased attention. The -desire will grow that it shall not be spoilt, either by the -authorities or the residents, that it shall not be turned into -townships and plantations, nor be starved, nor its wild life left to -be taken and destroyed by anyone and everyone. It will be seen that -the "rights" I have spoken of, with the unwritten laws {34} and -customs which are kept more or less in the dark, are in conflict with -the better and infinitely more important rights of the people -generally--of the whole nation. Once all this becomes common -knowledge, that which some now regard as a mere dream, a faint hope, -something too remote for us to concern ourselves about, will all at -once appear to us as a practical object--something to be won by -fighting, and certainly worth fighting for. - -It may be said at once, and I fancy that anyone who knows the inner -life of the Forest people will agree with me, that so long as these -are in possession (and here all private owners are included) there -can be no great change, no permanent improvement made in the Forest. -That is the difficulty, but it is not an insuperable one. Public -opinion, and the desire of the people for anything, is a considerable -force to-day; so that, inspired by it, the most timid and -conservative governments are apt all at once to acquire an -extraordinary courage. Sustained by that outside force, the most -tender-hearted and sensitive Prime Minister would not in the least -mind if some persons were to dub him a second and worse William the -Bastard. - -The people in this district have a curious experiment to show the -wonderful power of the Forest fly in retaining its grasp. A man -takes the fly between his finger and thumb, and with the other hand -holds a single hair of a cow or horse for it to seize, then gently -pulls hair and fly apart. The fly does not release his hold--he -splits the hair, or at any rate {35} shaves a piece off right down to -the fine end with his sharp, grasping claw. Doubtless the human -parasite will, when his time comes, show an equal tenacity; he will -embrace the biggest and oldest oak he knows, and to pluck him from -his beloved soil it will be necessary to pull up the tree by its -roots. But this is a detail, and may be left to the engineers. - - -[Sidenote: Overlooking Beaulieu] - -Beyond that starved, melancholy wilderness, the sight of which has -led me into so long a digression, one comes to a point which -overlooks the valley of the Exe; and here one pauses long before -going down to the half-hidden village by the river. Especially if it -is in May or June, when the oak is in its "glad light grene," for -that is the most vivid and beautiful of all vegetable greens, and the -prospect is the greenest and most soul-refreshing to be found in -England. The valley is all wooded and the wood is all oak--a -continuous oak-wood stretching away on the right, mile on mile, to -the sea. The sensation experienced at the sight of this prospect is -like that of the traveller in a dry desert when he comes to a clear -running stream and drinks his fill of water and is refreshed. The -river is tidal, and at the full of the tide in its widest part beside -the village its appearance is of a small inland lake, grown round -with oaks--old trees that stretch their horizontal branches far out -and wet their lower leaves in the salt water. The village itself -that has this setting, with its ancient watermill, its palace of the -Montagus, and the Abbey of Beaulieu, a grey ivied ruin, has a -distinction above {36} all Hampshire villages, and is unlike all -others in its austere beauty and atmosphere of old-world seclusion -and quietude. Above all is that quality which the mind imparts--the -expression due to romantic historical associations. - -[Sidenote: Swallow and pike] - -One very still, warm summer afternoon I stood on the margin, looking -across the sheet of glassy water at a heron on the farther side, -standing knee-deep in the shallow water patiently watching for a -fish, his grey figure showing distinctly against a background of -bright green sedges. Between me and the heron scores of swallows and -martins were hawking for flies, gliding hither and thither a little -above the glassy surface, and occasionally dropping down to dip and -wet their under plumage in the water. And all at once, fifty yards -out from the margin, there was a great splash, as if a big stone had -been flung out into the lake; and then two or three moments later out -from the falling spray and rocking water rose a swallow, struggling -laboriously up, its plumage drenched, and flew slowly away. A big -pike had dashed at and tried to seize it at the moment of dipping in -the water, and the swallow had escaped as by a miracle. I turned -round to see if any person was near, who might by chance have -witnessed so strange a thing, in order to speak to him about it. -There was no person within sight, but if on turning round my eyes had -encountered the form of a Cistercian monk, returning from his day's -labour in the fields, in his dirty black-and-white robe, his -implements on his shoulders, his face and hands {37} begrimed with -dust and sweat, the apparition on that day, in the mood I was in, -would not have greatly surprised me. - -The atmosphere, the expression of the past may so attune the mind as -almost to produce the illusion that the past is now. - -But more than old memories, great as their power over the mind is at -certain impressible moments, and more than Beaulieu as a place where -men dwell, is that ineffable freshness of nature, that verdure that -like the sunlight and the warmth of the sun penetrates to the inmost -being. Here I have remembered the old ornithologist Willughby's -suggestion, which no longer seemed fantastic, that the furred and -feathered creatures inhabiting arctic regions have grown white by -force of imagination and the constant intuition of snow. And here -too I have recalled that modern fancy that the soul in man has its -proper shape and colour, and have thought that if I came hither with -a grey or blue or orange or brown soul, its colour had now changed to -green. The pleasure of it has detained me long days in spring, often -straying by the river at its full, among the broadly-branching oaks, -delighting my sight with the new leaves - - against the sun shene, - Some very red, and some a glad light grene. - - -[Sidenote: Love of open spaces] - -Yet these same oak woods, great as their charm is, their green -everlasting gladness, have a less enduring hold on the spirit than -the open heath, though this may look melancholy and almost desolate -on coming {38} to it from those sunlit emerald glades with a green -thought in the soul. It seems enough that it is open, where the wind -blows free, and there is nothing between us and the sun. It is a -passion, an old ineradicable instinct in us: the strongest impulse in -children, savage or civilised, is to go out into some open place. If -a man be capable of an exalted mood, of a sense of absolute freedom, -so that he is no longer flesh and spirit but both in one, and one -with nature, it comes to him like some miraculous gift on a hill or -down or wide open heath. "You never enjoy the earth aright," wrote -Thomas Traherne in his _Divine Raptures_, "until the sun itself -floweth through your veins, till you are clothed with the heavens and -crowned with the stars, and perceive yourself to be the sole heir of -the whole world." - -It may be observed that we must be out and well away from the woods -and have a wide horizon all around in order to feel the sun flowing -through us. Many of us have experienced these "divine raptures," -this sublimated state of feeling; and such moments are perhaps the -best in our earthly lives; but it is mainly the Trahernes, the -Silurist Vaughans, the Newmans, the Frederic Myers, the Coventry -Patmores, the Wordsworths, that speak of them, since such moods best -fit, or can be made to fit in with their philosophy, or mysticism, -and are, to them, its best justification. - -This wide heath, east of Beaulieu, stretching miles away towards -Southampton Water, looks level to the eye. But it is not so; it is -grooved with long {39} valley-like depressions with marshy or boggy -bottoms, all draining into small tributaries of the Dark Water, which -flows into the Solent near Lepe. In these bottoms and in all the wet -places the heather and furze mixes with or gives place to the bog -myrtle, or golden withy; and on the spongiest spots the fragrant -yellow stars of the bog asphodel are common in June. These spots are -exceedingly rich in colour, with greys and emerald greens and orange -yellows of moss and lichen, flecked with the snow-white of -cotton-grass. - -Here, then, besides that cause of contentment which we find in -openness, there is fragrance in fuller measure than in most places. -One may wade through acres of myrtle, until that subtle delightful -odour is in one's skin and clothes, and in the air one breathes, and -seems at last to penetrate and saturate the whole being, and smell -seems to be for a time the most important of the senses. - -Among the interesting birds that breed on the heath, the nightjar is -one of the commonest. A keen naturalist, Mr. E. A. Bankes, who lived -close by, told me that he had marked the spot where he had found a -pair of young birds, and that each time he rode over the heath he had -a look at them, and as they remained there until able to fly, he -concluded that it is not true that the parent birds remove the young -when the nest has been discovered. - -I was not convinced, as it did not appear that he had handled the -young birds: he had only looked at them while sitting on his horse. -The following {40} summer I found a pair of young not far from the -same spot: they were half-fledged and very active, running into the -heath and trying to hide from me, but I caught and handled them for -some minutes, the parent bird remaining near, uttering her cries. I -marked the spot and went back next day, only to find that the birds -had vanished. - -[Sidenote: Snipe: Redshank] - -The snipe, too, is an annual breeder, and from what I saw of it on -the heath I think we have yet something to learn concerning the -breeding habits of that much-observed bird. The parent bird is not -so wise as most mothers of the feathered world, since her startling -cry of alarm, sounding in a small way like the snort of a frightened -horse, will attract a person to the spot where she is sheltering her -young among the myrtle. She will repeat the cry at intervals a dozen -times without stirring or attempting to conceal the young. But she -does not always act in the same way. Sometimes she has risen to a -great height and begun circling above me, the circles growing smaller -or larger as I came nearer or went farther from the spot where the -young were lurking. - -It was until recently a moot question as to whether or not the female -snipe made the drumming or bleating sound; some of the authorities -say that this sound proceeds only from the male bird. I have no -doubt that both birds make the sound. Invariably when I disturbed a -snipe with young, and when she mounted high in the air, to wheel -round and round, uttering her anxious cries, she dashed downwards at -intervals, and produced the bleating or drumming {41} which the male -birds emit when playing about the sky. - -In all cases where I have found young snipe there was but one old -bird, the female, no doubt. In some instances I have spent an hour -with the young birds by me, or in my hands, waiting for the other -parent to appear; and I am almost convinced that the care of the -young falls wholly on the female. - -The redshank, that graceful bird with a beautiful voice, breeds here -most years, and is in a perpetual state of anxiety so long as a human -figure remains in sight. A little while ago the small vari-coloured -stonechat or fuzz-jack, with red breast, black head and white collar, -sitting upright and motionless, like a painted image of a bird, on -the topmost spray of a furze bush, then flitting to perch on another -bush, then to another, for ever emitting those two little contrasted -sounds--the guttural chat and the clear, fretful pipe--had seemed to -me the most troubled and full of care and worries of all Nature's -feathered children--so sorrowful, in spite of his pretty harlequin -dress! Now his trouble seems a small thing, and not to be regarded -in the presence of the larger, louder redshank. As I walk he rises a -long way ahead, and wheeling about comes towards me--he and she, and -by-and-by a second pair, and perhaps a third; they come with measured -pulsation of the long, sharp, white-banded wings; and the first comer -sweeps by and returns again to meet the others, clamouring all the -time, calling on them to join in the outcry until the whole air seems -full of their {42} trouble. To and fro he flies, to this side and -that; and finally, as if in imitation of the small, fretful -stonechat, he sweeps down to alight on the topmost spray of some -small tree or tall bush--not a furze but a willow; and as it is an -insecure stand for a bird of his long thin wading legs, he stands -lightly, balancing himself with his wings; beautiful in his white and -pale-grey plumage, and his slender form, on that airy perch of the -willow in its grey-green leaves and snow-white catkins; and balanced -there, he still continues his sorrowful anxious cries--ever crying -for me to go--to go away and leave him in peace. I leave him -reluctantly, and have my reward, for no sooner does he see me going -than his anxious cries change to that beautiful wild pipe, unrivalled -except by the curlew among shore birds. - -[Sidenote: Pewit] - -Worst of all birds that can have no peace in their lives so long as -you are in sight is the pewit. The harsh wailing sound of his crying -voice as he wheels about overhead, the mad downward rushes, when his -wings creak as he nears you, give the idea that he is almost crazed -with anxiety; and one feels ashamed at causing so much misery. Oh, -poor bird! is there no way to make you understand without leaving the -ground, that your black-spotted, olive-coloured eggs are perfectly -safe; that a man can walk about on the heath and be no more harmful -to you than the Forest ponies, and the ragged donkey browsing on a -furze bush, and the cow with her tinkling bell? I stand motionless, -looking the other way; I sit down to think; I lie flat on my back -with hands {43} clasped behind my head, and gaze at the sky, and -still the trouble goes on--he will not believe in me, nor tolerate -me. There is nothing to do but get up and go away out of sight and -sound of the pewits. - -It appears to me that this sympathy for the lower animals is very -much a matter of association--an overflow of that regard for the -rights of and compassion for others of our kind which are at the -foundations of the social instinct. The bird is a red- and a -warm-blooded being--we have seen that its blood is red, and when we -take a living bird in our hands we feel its warmth and the throbbing -of its breast: therefore birds are related to us, and with that red -human blood they have human passions. Witness the pewit--the mother -bird, when you have discovered or have come near her downy little -one--could any human mother, torn with the fear of losing her babe, -show her unquiet and disturbed state in a plainer, more -understandable way! But in the case of creatures of another division -in the kingdom of life--non-vertebrates, without sensible heat, and -with a thin colourless fluid instead of red blood, as if like plants -they had only a vegetative life--this sympathy is not felt as a rule. -When, in some exceptional case, the feeling is there, it is because -some human association has come into the mind in spite of the -differences between insect and man. - -Walking on this heath I saw a common green grasshopper, disturbed at -my step, leap away, and by chance land in a geometric web in a small -furze {44} bush. Caught in the web, it began kicking with its long -hind legs, and would in three seconds have made its escape. But mark -what happened. Directly over the web, and above the kicking -grasshopper, there was a small, web-made, thimble-shaped shelter, -mouth down, fastened to a spray, and the spider was sitting in it. -And looking down it must have seen and known that the grasshopper was -far too big and strong to be held in that frailest snare, that it -would be gone in a moment and the net torn to pieces. It also must -have seen and known that it was no wasp nor dangerous insect of any -kind; and so, instantly, straight and swift as a leaden plummet, it -dropped out of the silvery bell it lived in on to the grasshopper and -attacked it at the head. The falces were probably thrust into the -body between the head and pro-thorax, for almost instantly the -struggle ceased, and in less than three seconds the victim appeared -perfectly dead. - -[Sidenote: Grasshopper and spider] - -What interested me in this sight was the spider, an _Epeira_ of a -species I had never closely looked at before, a little less in size -than our famous _Epeira diadema_--our common garden spider, with the -pretty white diadem on its velvety, brown abdomen. This heath spider -was creamy-white in colour, the white deepening to warm buff all -round at the sides, and to a deeper tint on the under surface. It -was curiously and prettily coloured; and, being new to me, its image -was vividly impressed on my mind. - -As to what had happened, that did not impress me at all. I could -not, like the late noble poet who {45} cherished an extreme animosity -against the spider, and inveighed against it in brilliant, inspired -verse, remember and brood sadly on the thought of the fairy forms -that are its victims-- - - The lovely births that winnow by, - Twin-sisters of the rainbow sky: - Elf-darlings, fluffy, bee-bright things, - And owl-white moths with mealy wings. - -Nor could I, like him, break the creature's toils, nor take the dead -from its gibbet, nor slay it on account of its desperate wickedness. -These are mere house-bred feelings and fancies, perhaps morbid; he -who walks out of doors with Nature, who sees life and death as -sunlight and shadow, on witnessing such an incident wishes the captor -a good appetite, and, passing on, thinks no more about it. For any -day in summer, sitting by the water, or in a wood, or on the open -heath, I note little incidents of this kind; they are always going on -in thousands all about us, and one with trained eye cannot but see -them; but no feeling is excited, no sympathy, and they are no sooner -seen than forgotten. But, as I said, there are exceptional cases, -and here is one which refers to an even more insignificant creature -than a field grasshopper--a small dipterous insect--and yet I was -strangely moved by it. - -The insect was flying rather slowly by me over the heath--a thin, -yellow-bodied, long-legged creature, a _Tipula_, about half as big as -our familiar crane-fly. Now, as it flew by me about on a level with -my thighs, up from the heath at my feet shot {46} out a second -insect, about the same size as the first, also a Dipteron, but of -another family--one of the Asilidę, which are rapacious. The -_Asilus_ was also very long-legged, and seizing the other with its -legs, the two fell together to the ground. Stooping down, I -witnessed the struggle. They were locked together, and I saw the -attacking insect raise his head and the forepart of his body so as to -strike, then plunge his rostrum like a dagger in the soft part of his -victim's body. Again and again he raised and buried his weapon in -the other, and the other still refused to die or to cease struggling. -And this little fight and struggle of two flies curiously moved me, -and for some time I could not get over the feeling of intense -repugnance it excited. This feeling was wholly due to association: -the dagger-like weapon and the action of the insect were curiously -human-like, and I had seen just such a combat between two men, one -fallen and the other on him, raising and striking down with his -knife. Had I never witnessed such an incident, the two flies -struggling, one killing the other, would have produced no such -feeling, and would not have been remembered. - - -We live in thoughts and feelings, not in days and years-- - - In feelings, not in figures on a dial, - -as some poet has said, and, recalling an afternoon and an evening -spent on this heath, it does not seem to my mind like an evening -passed alone in a vacant place, in the usual way, watching and -listening and {47} thinking of nothing, but an eventful period, which -deeply moved me, and left an enduring memory. - -The sun went down, and though the distressed birds had cried till -they were weary of crying, I did not go away. Something on this -occasion kept me, in spite of the gathering gloom and a cold -wind--bitterly cold for June--which blew over the wide heath. Here -and there the rays from the setting sun fell upon and lit up the few -mounds that rise like little islands out of the desolate brown waste. -These are the Pixie mounds, the barrows raised by probably -prehistoric men, a people inconceivably remote in time and spirit -from us, whose memory is pale in our civilised days. - -[Sidenote: "World-strangeness"] - -There are times and moods in which it is revealed to us, or to a few -amongst us, that we are a survival of the past, a dying remnant of a -vanished people, and are like strangers and captives among those who -do not understand us, and have no wish to do so; whose language and -customs and thoughts are not ours. That "world-strangeness," which -William Watson and his fellow-poets prattle in rhyme about, those, at -all events, who have what they call the "note of modernity" in their -pipings, is not in me as in them. The blue sky, the brown soil -beneath, the grass, the trees, the animals, the wind, and rain, and -sun, and stars are never strange to me; for I am in and of and am one -with them; and my flesh and the soil are one, and the heat in my -blood and in the sunshine are one, and the winds and tempests and my -passions are one. I feel the "strangeness" {48} only with regard to -my fellow-men, especially in towns, where they exist in conditions -unnatural to me, but congenial to them; where they are seen in -numbers and in crowds, in streets and houses, and in all places where -they gather together; when I look at them, their pale civilised -faces, their clothes, and hear them eagerly talking about things that -do not concern me. They are out of my world--the real world. All -that they value, and seek and strain after all their lives long, -their works and sports and pleasures, are the merest baubles and -childish things; and their ideals are all false, and nothing but -by-products, or growths, of the artificial life--little funguses -cultivated in heated cellars. - -[Sidenote: The barrow on the heath] - -In such moments we sometimes feel a kinship with, and are strangely -drawn to, the dead, who were not as these; the long, long dead, the -men who knew not life in towns, and felt no strangeness in sun and -wind and rain. In such a mood on that evening I went to one of those -lonely barrows; one that rises to a height of nine or ten feet above -the level heath, and is about fifty yards round. It is a garden in -the brown desert, covered over with a dense growth of furze bushes, -still in flower, mixed with bramble and elder and thorn, and heather -in great clumps, blooming, too, a month before its time, the fiery -purple-red of its massed blossoms, and of a few tall, tapering spikes -of foxglove, shining against the vivid green of the young bracken. - -All this rich wild vegetation on that lonely mound on the brown heath! - -{49} - -Here, sheltered by the bushes, I sat and saw the sun go down, and the -long twilight deepen till the oak woods of Beaulieu in the west -looked black on the horizon, and the stars came out: in spite of the -cold wind that made me shiver in my thin clothes, I sat there for -hours, held by the silence and solitariness of that mound of the -ancient dead. - -Sitting there, profoundly sad for no apparent cause, with no -conscious thought in my mind, it suddenly occurred to me that I knew -that spot from of old, that in long-past forgotten years I had often -come there of an evening and sat through the twilight, in love with -the loneliness and peace, wishing that it might be my last -resting-place. To sleep there for ever--the sleep that knows no -waking! We say it, but do not mean--do not believe it. Dreams do -come to give us pause; and we know that we have lived. To dwell -alone, then, with this memory of life in such a spot for all time! -There are moments in which the thought of death steals upon and takes -us as it were by surprise, and it is then exceeding bitter. It was -as if that cold wind blowing over and making strange whispers in the -heather had brought a sudden tempest of icy rain to wet and chill me. - -This miserable sensation soon passed away, and, with quieted heart, I -began to grow more and more attracted by the thought of resting on so -blessed a spot. To have always about me that wildness which I best -loved--the rude incult heath, the beautiful desolation; to have harsh -furze and ling and bramble and bracken to grow on me, and only wild -creatures {50} for visitors and company. The little stonechat, the -tinkling meadow-pipit, the excited whitethroat to sing to me in -summer; the deep-burrowing rabbit to bring down his warmth and -familiar smell among my bones; the heat-loving adder, rich in colour, -to find when summer is gone a dry safe shelter and hibernaculum in my -empty skull. - -So beautiful did the thought appear that I could have laid down my -life at that moment, in spite of death's bitterness, if by so doing I -could have had my desire. But no such sweet and desirable a thing -could be given me by this strange people and race that possess the -earth, who are not like the people here with me in the twilight on -the heath. For I thought, too, of those I should lie with, having -with them my after life; and thinking of them I was no longer alone. -I thought of them not as others think, those others of a strange -race. What _do_ they think? They think so many things! The -materialist, the scientist, would say: They have no existence; they -ceased to be anything when their flesh was turned to dust, or burned -to ashes, and their minds, or souls, were changed to some other form -of energy, or motion, or affection of matter, or whatever they call -it. The believer would not say of them, or of the immaterial part of -them, that they had gone into a world of light, that in a dream or -vision he had seen them walking in an air of glory; but he might hold -that they had been preached to in Hades some nineteen centuries ago, -and had perhaps repented of their barbarous deeds. Or he might -think, since he {51} has considerable latitude allowed him on the -point, that the imperishable parts of them are here at this very -spot, tangled in dust that was once flesh and bones, sleeping like -chrysalids through a long winter, to be raised again at the sound of -a trumpet blown by an angel to a second conscious life, happy or -miserable as may be willed. - -I imagine none of these things, for they were with me in the twilight -on the barrow in crowds, sitting and standing in groups, and many -lying on their sides on the turf below, their heads resting in their -hands. They, too, all had their faces turned towards Beaulieu. -Evening by evening for many and many a century they had looked to -that point, towards the black wood on the horizon, where there were -people and sounds of human life. Day by day for centuries they had -listened with wonder and fear to the Abbey bells, and to the distant -chanting of the monks. And the Abbey has been in ruins for -centuries, open to the sky and overgrown with ivy; but still towards -that point they look with apprehension, since men still dwell there, -strangers to them, the little busy eager people, hateful in their -artificial indoor lives, who do not know and who care nothing for -them, who worship not and fear not the dead that are underground, but -dig up their sacred places and scatter their bones and ashes, and -despise and mock them because they are dead and powerless. - -It is not strange that they fear and hate. I look at them--their -dark, pale, furious faces--and think that if they could be visible -thus in the daylight, all {52} who came to that spot or passed near -it would turn and fly with a terrifying image in their mind which -would last to the end of life. But they do not resent my presence, -and would not resent it were I permitted to come at last to dwell -with them for ever. Perhaps they know me for one of their -tribe--know that what they feel I feel, would hate what they hate. - -Has it not been said that love itself is an argument in favour of -immortality? All love--the love of men and women, of a mother for -her child, of a friend for a friend--the love that will cause him to -lay down his life for another. Is it possible to believe, they say, -that this beautiful sacred flame can be darkened for ever when soul -and body fall asunder? But love without hate I do not know and -cannot conceive; one implies the other. No good and no bad quality -or principle can exist (for me) without its opposite. As old -Langland wisely says: - - For by luthere men know the good; - And whereby wiste men which were white - If all things black were? - - - - -{53} - -CHAPTER III - -A favourite New Forest haunt--Summertide--Young blackbird's -call--Abundance of blackbirds and thrushes, and destruction of -young--Starlings breeding--The good done by starlings--Perfume of the -honeysuckle--Beauty of the hedge rose--Cult of the rose--Lesser -whitethroat--His low song--Common and lesser whitethroat--In the -woods--A sheet of bracken--Effect of broken surfaces--Roman mosaics -at Silchester--Why mosaics give pleasure--Woodland birds--Sound of -insect life--Abundance of flies--Sufferings of cattle--Dark -Water--Biting and teasing flies--Feeding the fishes and fiddlers with -flies. - - -Looking away from Beaulieu towards Southampton Water there is seen on -the border of the wide brown heath a long line of tall firs, a vast -dark grove forming the horizon on that side. This is the edge of an -immense wood, and beyond the pines which grow by the heath, it is -almost exclusively oak with an undergrowth of holly. It is low-lying -ground with many streams and a good deal of bog, and owing to the -dense undergrowth and the luxuriance of vegetation generally this -part of the forest has a ruder, wilder appearance than at any other -spot. Here, too, albeit the nobler bird and animal forms are absent, -as is indeed the case in all the New Forest district, animal life -generally is in greatest profusion and variety. This wood with its -surrounding heaths, bogs, and farm lands, has been my favourite -summer resort and hunting-ground for {54} some years past. With a -farm-house not many minutes' walk from the forest for a home, I have -here spent long weeks at a time, rambling in the woods every day and -all day long, for the most time out of sight of human habitations, -and always with the feeling that I was in my own territory, where -everything was as Nature made it and as I liked it to be. Never once -in all my rambles did I encounter that hated being, the collector, -with his white, spectacled town face and green butterfly net. In -this out-of-the-way corner of the Forest one could imagine the time -come when this one small piece of England which lies between the Avon -and Southampton Water will be a sanctuary for all rare and beautiful -wild life and a place of refreshment to body and soul for all men. - -The richest, fullest time of the year is when June is wearing to an -end, when one knows without the almanac that spring is over and gone. -Nowhere in England is one more sensible of the change to fullest -summer than in this low-lying, warmest corner of Hampshire. - -The cuckoo ceases to weary us with its incessant call, and the -nightingale sings less and less frequently. The passionate season is -well-nigh over for birds; their fountain of music begins to run dry. -The cornfields and waste grounds are everywhere splashed with the -intense scarlet of poppies. Summer has no rain in all her wide, hot -heavens to give to her thirsty fields, and has sprinkled them with -the red fiery moisture from her own veins. And as colour {55} -changes, growing deeper and more intense, so do sounds change: for -the songs of yesterday there are shrill hunger-cries. - -[Sidenote: Young blackbird's call] - -One of the oftenest heard in all the open woods, in hedges, and even -out in the cornfields is the curious musical call of the young -blackbird. It is like the chuckle of the adult, but not so loud, -full, happy, and prolonged; it is shriller, and drops at the end to a -plaintive, impatient sound, a little pathetic--a cry of the young -bird to its too long absent mother. When very hungry he emits this -shrill musical call at intervals of ten to fifteen seconds; it may be -heard distinctly a couple of hundred yards away. - -The numbers of young blackbirds and throstles apparently just out of -the nest astonish one. They are not only in the copses and hedges, -and on almost every roadside tree, but you constantly see them on the -ground in the lanes and public roads, standing still, quite -unconscious of danger. The poor helpless bird looks up at you in a -sort of amazement, never having seen men walking or riding on -bicycles; but he hesitates, not knowing whether to fly away or stand -still. Thrush or blackbird, he is curiously interesting to look at. -The young thrush, with his yellowish-white spotty breast, the remains -of down on his plumage, his wide yellow mouth, and raised head with -large, fixed, toad-like eyes, has a distinctly reptilian appearance. -Not so the young blackbird, standing motionless on the road, in doubt -too as to what you are; his short tail raised, giving him {56} an -incipient air of blackbird jauntiness; his plumage not brown, indeed, -as we describe it, but rich chestnut-black, like the chestnut-black -hair of a beautiful Hampshire girl of that precious type with oval -face and pale dark skin. A pretty creature, rich in colour, with a -musical, pathetic voice, waiting so patiently to be visited and fed, -and a weasel perhaps watching him from the roadside grass with -hungry, bright little eyes! How they die--thrushes and -blackbirds--at this perilous period in their lives! I sometimes see -what looks like a rudely painted figure of a bird on the hard road: -it is a young blackbird that had not the sense to get out of the way -of a passing team, and was crushed flat by a hoof or wheel. It is -but one in a thousand that perishes in that way. One has to remember -that these two species of thrush--throstle and blackbird--are in -extraordinary abundance, that next to starlings and chaffinches they -abound over all species; that they are exceedingly prolific, -beginning to lay in this southern country in February, and rearing at -least three broods in the season; and that when winter comes round -again the thrush and blackbird population will be just about what it -was before. - -Fruit-eating birds do not much vex the farmer in this almost -fruitless country. Thrushes and finches and sparrows are nothing to -him: the starling, if he pays any attention to the birds, he looks on -as a good friend. - -[Sidenote: Starlings breeding] - -At the farm there are two very old yew trees growing in the -back-yard, and one of these, in an {57} advanced state of decay, is -full of holes and cavities in its larger branches. Here about half a -dozen pairs of starlings nest every year, and by the middle of June -there are several broods of fully-fledged young. At this time it was -amusing to watch the parent birds at their task, coming and going all -day long, flying out and away straight as arrows to this side and -that, every bird to its own favourite hunting-ground. Some had their -grounds in the meadow, just before the house where the cows and geese -were, and it was easy to watch their movements. Out of the yew the -bird would shoot, and in ten or twelve seconds would be down walking -about in that busy, plodding, rook-like way the starling has when -looking for something; and presently, darting his beak into the turf, -he would drag out something large, and back he would fly to his young -with a big, conspicuous, white object in his beak. These white -objects which he was busily gathering every day, from dawn to dark, -were full-grown grubs of the cockchafer. When watching these birds -at their work it struck me that the enormous increase of starlings -all over the country in recent years may account for the fact that -great cockchafer years do not now occur. In former years these -beetles were sometimes in such numbers that they swarmed in the air -in places, and stripped the oaks of their leaves in midsummer. It is -now more than ten years since I saw cockchafers in considerable -numbers, and for a long time past I have not heard of their -appearance in swarms anywhere. - -{58} - -The starling is in some ways a bad bird, a cherry thief, and a robber -of other birds' nesting-places; yaffle and nuthatch must hate him, -but if his ministrations have caused an increase of even one per -cent. in the hay crop, and the milk and butter supply, he is, from -our point of view, not wholly bad. - -In late June the unkept hedges are in the fullness of their midsummer -beauty. After sunset the fragrance of the honeysuckle is almost too -much: standing near the blossom-laden hedge when there is no wind to -dissipate the odour, there is a heaviness in it which makes it like -some delicious honeyed liquor which we are drinking in. The -honeysuckle is indeed first among the "melancholy flowers" that give -out their fragrance by night. In the daytime, when the smell is -faint, the pale sickly blossoms are hardly noticed even where they -are seen in masses and drape the hedges. Of all the hedge-flowers, -the rose alone is looked at, its glory being so great as to make all -other blooms seem nothing but bleached or dead discoloured leaves in -comparison. - -[Sidenote: Beauty of the hedge rose] - -He would indeed be a vainly ambitious person who should attempt to -describe this queen of all wild flowers, joyous or melancholy; but -substituting flower for fruit, and the delight of the eye for the -pleasure of taste, we may in speaking of it quote the words of a -famous old writer, used in praise of the strawberry. He said that -doubtless God Almighty could have made a better berry if He had been -so minded, but doubtless God Almighty never did. - -I esteem the rose not only for that beauty which {59} sets it highest -among flowers, but also because it will not suffer admiration when -removed from its natural surroundings. In this particular it -resembles certain brilliant sentient beings that languish and lose -all their charms in captivity. Pluck your rose and bring it indoors, -and place it side by side with other blossoms--yellow flag and blue -periwinkle, and shining yellow marsh-marigold, and poppy and -cornflower--and it has no lustre, and is no more to the soul than a -flower made out of wax or paper. Look at it here, in the brilliant -sunlight and the hot wind, waving to the wind on its long thorny -sprays all over the vast disordered hedges; here in rosy masses, -there starring the rough green tangle with its rosy stars--a -rose-coloured cloud on the earth and Summer's bridal veil--and you -will refuse to believe (since it will be beyond your power to -imagine) that anywhere on the earth, in any hot or temperate climate, -there exists a more divinely beautiful sight. - -If among the numberless cults that flourish in the earth we could -count a cult of the rose, to this spot the votaries of the flower -might well come each midsummer to hold their festival. They would be -youthful and beautiful, their lips red, their eyes full of laughter; -and they would be arrayed in light silken garments of delicate -colour--green, rose, and white; and their arms and necks and -foreheads would shine with ornaments of gold and precious stones. In -their hands would be musical instruments of many pretty shapes with -which they would sweetly accompany their clear voices as they sat or -stood {60} beneath the old oak trees, and danced in sun and shade, -and when they moved in bright procession along the wide grass-grown -roads, through forest and farm-land. - -[Sidenote: Lesser whitethroat] - -In the summer of 1900 I found the lesser whitethroat--the better -whitethroat I should prefer to call it--in extraordinary abundance in -the large unkept hedges east of the woods in the parishes of Fawley -and Exbury. Hitherto I had always found this species everywhere -thinly distributed; here it was abundant as the reed-warblers along -the dykes in the flat grass-lands on the Somerset coast, and like the -reed-warblers in the reed- and sedge-grown ditches and streams, each -pair of whitethroats had its own part of the hedge; so that in -walking in a lane when you left one singing behind you heard his next -neighbour singing at a distance of fifteen or twenty yards farther -on, and from end to end of the great hedge you had that continuous -beautiful low warble at your side, and sometimes on both sides. The -loud brief song of this whitethroat, which resembles the first part -of a chaffinch's song, is a pleasant sound and nothing more; the low -warbling, which runs on without a break for forty or fifty seconds, -or longer, is the beautiful song, and resembles the low continuous -warble of the blackcap, but is more varied, and has one sound which -is unique in the songs of British birds. This is a note repeated two -or three times at intervals in the course of the song, of an -excessive sharpness, unlike any other bird sound, but comparable to -the silvery shrilling of the great {61} green -grasshopper--excessively sharp, yet musical. The bird emits this -same silver shrill note when angry and when fighting, but it is then -louder and not so musical, and resembles the sharpest sounds made by -bats and other small mammals when excited. - -One day I sat down near a hedge, where an old half-dead oak stood -among the thorns and brambles, and just by the oak a lesser -whitethroat was moving about and singing. Out among the furze bushes -at some distance from the hedge a common whitethroat was singing, -flitting and darting from bush to bush, rising at intervals into the -air and dropping again into the furze; but by-and-by he rose to a -greater height to pour out his mad confused strain in the air, then -sloped away to the hedge and settled, still singing, on the dead -branch of the oak. Up rose the lesser whitethroat and attacked it -with extreme fury, rising to a height of two or three feet and -dashing repeatedly at it, looking like a miniature kestrel or hobby; -and every time it descended the other ducked his head and flattened -himself on the branch, only to rise again, crest erect and throat -puffed out, still pouring forth its defiant song. As long as this -lasted the attacking bird emitted his piercing metallic anger-note, -rapidly and continuously, like the clicking of steel machinery. - -Alas! I fear I shall not again see the lesser whitethroat as I saw -him in that favoured year: in 1901 he came not, or came in small -numbers; and it was the same in the spring of 1902. The spring was -cold and backward in both years, and the bitter {62} continuous east -winds which prevailed in March and April probably proved fatal to -large numbers of the more delicate migrants. - -In this low, level country, sheltered by woods and hedgerows, we feel -the tremendous power of the sun even before the last week in June. -It is good to feel, to bathe in the heat all day long; but at noon -one sometimes finds it too hot even on the open heath, and is forced -to take shelter in the woods. It was always coolest on the high -ground among the pines, where the trees are very tall and there is no -underwood. In spring it was always pleasant to walk here on the -thick carpet of fallen needles and old dead fern; now, in a very -short time, the young bracken has sprung up as if by miracle to a -nearly uniform height of about four feet. It spreads all around me -for many acres--an unbroken sea of brilliant green, out of which rise -the tall red columns of the pines supporting the dark woodland roof. - -[Sidenote: A sheet of bracken] - -Why is it, when in June the luxuriant young bracken first drops its -fully developed fronds, so that frond touches frond, many -overlapping, forming a billowy expanse of vivid green, hiding, or all -but hiding, the brown or red soil beneath--why is it the eyes rest -with singular satisfaction on it? It is not only because of the -colour, nor the beauty of contrast where the red floor of last year's -beech leaves is seen through the fresh verdure, and of dark red-boled -pines rising from the green sea of airy fronds. Colours and -contrasts more beautiful may be seen, and the pleasure they give is -different in kind. - -{63} - -Here standing amid the fern, where it had at last formed that waving -surface and was a little above my knees, it seemed to me that the -particular satisfaction I experienced was due to the fine symmetrical -leafing of the surface, the minute subdivision of parts which -produced an effect similar to that of a mosaic floor. When I -consider other surfaces, on land or water, I find the same -gratification in all cases where it is broken or marked out or -fretted in minute, more or less orderly subdivisions. The glass-like -or oily surface of water, where there are no reflections to bring -other feelings in, does not hold or attract but rather wearies the -sight; but it is no sooner touched to a thousand minute crinkles by -the wind, than it is looked at with refreshment and pleasure. The -bed of a clear stream, with its pavement of minute variegated pebbles -and spots of light and shade, pleases in the same way. The sight -rests with some satisfaction even on a stagnant pond covered with -green duckweed; but the satisfaction is less in this case on account -of the extreme minuteness of the parts and the too great smoothness. -The roads and open spaces in woods in October and November are -delightful to walk in when they are like richly variegated floors -composed of small pieces, and like dark floors inlaid with red and -gold of beech and oak leaves. Numberless instances might be given, -and we see that the effect is produced even in small objects, as, for -instance, in scaly fishes and in serpents. It is the minutely -segmented texture of the serpent which, with the colour, gives it its -wonderful richness. {64} For the same reason a crocodile bag is more -admired than one of cowhide, and a book in buckram looks better than -one in cloth or even vellum. - -The old Romans must have felt this instinctive pleasure of the eye -very keenly when they took such great pains over their floors. I was -strongly impressed with this fact at Silchester when looking at the -old floors of rich and poor houses alike which have been uncovered -during the last two or three years. They seem to have sought for the -effect of mosaic even in the meaner habitations, and in passages and -walks, and when tesserę could not be had they broke up common tiles -into small square fragments, and made their floors in that way. Even -with so poor a material, and without any ornamentation, they did get -the effect sought, and those ancient fragments of floors made of -fragments of tiles, unburied after so many centuries, do actually -more gratify the sight than the floors of polished oak or other -expensive material which are seen in our mansions and palaces. - -There is doubtless a physiological reason for this satisfaction to -the eye, as indeed there is for so many of the pleasurable sensations -we experience in seeing. We may say that the vision flies over a -perfectly smooth plain surface, like a ball over a sheet of ice, and -rests nowhere; but that in a mosaic floor the segmentation of the -surface stays and rests the sight. To go no farther than that, which -is but a part of the secret, the sheet of fern fronds, on account of -this staying effect on the vision, increases what we see, {65} so -that a surface of a dozen square yards of fern seems more in extent -than half an acre of smooth-shaven lawn, or the large featureless -floor of a skating-rink or ball-room. - -[Sidenote: Harshening bird-voices] - -On going or wading through the belt of bracken under the tall -firs--that billowy sea of fronds in the midst of which I have so long -detained my patient reader--into the great oak wood beyond and below -it, on each successive visit during the last days of June, the -harshening of the bird voices became more marked. Only the wren and -wood-wren and willow-wren uttered an occasional song, but the bigger -birds made most of the sound. Families of young jays were then just -out of the nest, crying with hunger, and filling the wood with their -discordant screams when the parent birds came with food. A pair of -kestrels, too, with a nestful of young on a tall fir incessantly -uttered their shrill reiterated cries when I was near; and one pair -of green woodpeckers, with young out of the breeding-hole but not yet -able to fly, were half crazed with anxiety. Around me and on before -me they flitted from tree to tree and clung to the bark, wings spread -out and crest raised, their loud laugh changed to a piercing cry of -anger that pained the sense. - -They were now moved only by solicitude and anger: all other passion -and music had gone out of the bird and into the insect world. The -oak woods were now full of a loud continuous hum like that of a -distant threshing-machine; an unbroken deep sound composed of ten -thousand thousand small individual sounds conjoined in one, but -diffused and flowing {66} like water over the surface, under the -trees, and the rough bushy tangle. The incredible number and variety -of blood-sucking flies makes this same low hot part of the Forest as -nearly like a transcript of tropical nature in some damp, wooded -district as may be found in England. But these Forest flies, even -when they came in legions about me, were not able to spoil my -pleasure. It was delightful to see so much life--to visit and sit -down with them in their own domestic circle. - -In other days, in a distant region, I have passed many a night out of -doors in the presence of a cloud of mosquitoes; and when during -restless sleep I have pulled the covering from my face, they had me -at their mercy. For the smarts they inflicted on me then I have my -reward, since the venom they injected into my veins has proved a -lasting prophylactic. But to the poor cattle this place must be a -very purgatory, a mazy wilderness swarming with minute hellish imps -that mock their horns and giant strength, and cannot be shaken off. -While sitting on the roots of a tree in the heart of the wood, I -heard the heavy tramping and distressed bellowings of several beasts -coming at a furious rate towards me, and presently half a dozen -heifers and young bulls burst through the bushes; and catching sight -of me at a distance of ten or twelve yards, they suddenly came to a -dead stop, glaring at me with strange, mad, tortured eyes; then -swerving aside, crashed away through the undergrowth in another -direction. - -[Sidenote: Dark Water] - -In this wood I sought and found the stream well {67} named the Dark -Water; here, at all events, it is grown over with old ivied oaks, -with brambles and briars that throw long branches from side to side, -making the almost hidden current in the deep shade look black; but -when the sunlight falls on it the water is the colour of old sherry -from the red soil it flows over. No sooner had I sat down on the -bank, where I had a little space of sunlit water to look upon, than -the flies gathered thick about and on me, and I began to pay some -attention to individuals among them. Those that came to suck blood, -and settled at once in a business-like manner on my legs, were some -hairy and some smooth, and of various colours--grey, black, -steel-blue, and barred and ringed with bright tints; and with these -distinguished guests came numberless others, small lean gnats mostly, -without colour, and of no consideration. I did not so much mind -these as the others that simply buzzed round without an object--flies -that have no beauty, no lancet to stab you with, and no distinction -of any kind, yet will persist in forcing themselves on your -attention. They buzz and buzz, and are loudest in your ear when you -are most anxious to listen to some distant faint sound. If a -blood-sucker hurts you, you can slap him to death, and there's an end -of the matter; but slap at one of these idle, aimless, teasing flies -as hard as you like, and he is gone like quicksilver through your -fingers. He is buzzing derisively in your ears: "Slap away as much -as you like--it pleases you and doesn't hurt me." And then down -again in the same place! - -{68} - -When the others--the serious flies on business bent--got too -numerous, I began to slap my legs, killing one or two of the -greediest at each slap, and to throw their small corpses on the -sunlit current. These slain flies were not wasted, for very soon I -had quite a number of little minnows close to my feet, eager to seize -them as they fell. And, by-and-by, three fiddlers, or pond-skaters, -"sagacious of their quarry from afar," came skating into sight on the -space of bright water; and to these mysterious, uncanny-looking -creatures--insect ghosts that walk on the water, but with very -unghost-like appetites--I began tossing some of the flies; and each -time a fiddler seized a floating fly he skated away into the shade -with it to devour it in peace and quiet all alone by himself. For a -fiddler with a fly is like a dog with a bone among other hungry dogs. -When I had finished feeding my ghosts and little fishes, I got up and -left the place, for the sun was travelling west and the greatest heat -was over. - - - - -{69} - -CHAPTER IV - -The stag-beetle--Evening flight--Appearance on the wing--Seeking a -mate--Stag and doe in a hedge--The ploughman and the beetle--A -stag-beetle's fate--Concerning tenacity of life--Life appearances -after death--A serpent's skin--A dead glow-worm's light--Little -summer tragedies--A snaky spot--An adder's basking-place--Watching -adders--The adder's senses--Adder's habits not well known--A pair of -anxious pewits--A dead young pewit--Animals without knowledge of -death--Removal of the dead by ants--Gould's observations on ants. - - -[Sidenote: The stag-beetle] - -During the last week in June we can look for the appearance of our -most majestical insect; he is an evening flyer, and a little before -sunset begins to show himself abroad. He is indeed a monarch among -hexapods, with none to equal him save, perhaps, the great goblin -moth; and in shape and size and solidity he bears about the same -relation to pretty bright flies as a horned rhinoceros does to -volatile squirrels and monkeys and small barred and spotted felines. -This is the stag-beetle--"stags and does" is the native name for the -two sexes; he is probably more abundant in this corner of Hampshire -than in any other locality in England, and among the denizens of the -Forest there are few more interesting. About four or five o'clock in -the afternoon, the ponderous beetle wakes out of his long siesta, -down among the roots and dead vegetable matter of a thorny brake or -large hedge, and laboriously sets himself to work {70} his way out. -He is a slow, clumsy creature, a very bad climber; and small wonder, -when we consider how he is impeded by his long branched horns when -endeavouring to make his way upwards through a network of interlacing -stems. - -As you walk by the hedge-side a strange noise suddenly arrests your -attention; it is the buzz of an insect, but loud enough to startle -you; it might be mistaken for the reeling of a nightjar, but is -perhaps more like the jarring hum of a fast-driven motor-car. The -reason of the noise is that the beetle has with great pains climbed -up a certain height from the ground, and, in order to ascertain -whether he has got far enough, he erects himself on his stand, lifts -his wing-cases, shakes out his wings, and begins to agitate them -violently, turning this way and that to make sure that he has a clear -space. If he then attempts to fly--it is one of his common -blunders--he instantly strikes against some branch or cluster of -leaves, and is thrown down. The tumble does not hurt him in the -least, but so greatly astonishes him that he remains motionless a -good while; then recovering his senses, he begins to ascend again. -At length, after a good many accidents and adventures by the way, he -gets to a topmost twig, and, after some buzzing to get up steam, -launches himself heavily on the air and goes away in grand style. - -Hugh Miller, in his autobiography, tells of the discovery he made of -a curiously striking resemblance in shape between our most elegantly -made carriages and the bodies of wasps, the resemblance being {71} -heightened by a similarity of colouring seen in the lines and bands -of vivid yellows and reds on a polished black ground. This likeness -between insect and carriage does not appear so striking at this day -owing to a change in the fashion towards a more sombre colour in the -vehicles; their funeral blacks, dark blues, and greens being now -seldom relieved with bright yellows and reds. The stag-beetle, too, -when he goes away with heavy flight always gives one the idea of some -kind of machine or vehicle, not like the aerial phaeton of the wasp -or hornet, with its graceful lines and strongly-contrasted colours, -but an oblong, ponderous, armour-plated car, furnished with a beak, -and painted a deep uniform brown. - -Birds, especially the more aerial insectivorous kinds, have the habit -of flying at and teasing any odd or grotesque-looking creature they -may see on the wing--as a bat, for instance. I have seen small birds -dart at a passing stag, but on coming near they turn tail and fly -from him, frightened perhaps at his formidable appearance and loud -noise. - -Notwithstanding his lumbering, blundering ways, when the stag is -abroad in search of the doe, you may see that he is endowed with a -sense and faculty so exquisite as to make it appear almost miraculous -in the sureness of its action. The void air, as he sweeps droning -through it, is peopled with subtle intelligences, which elude and -mock and fly from him, and which he pursues until he finds out their -secret. They mock him most, or, to drop the metaphor, he is most at -fault, on a still sultry day when {72} not a breath of air is -stirring. At times he catches what, for want of better knowledge, we -must call a scent, and in order to fix the direction it comes from he -goes through a series of curious movements. You will see him rise -above a thorny thicket, or a point where two hedges intersect at -right angles, and remain suspended on his wings a few inches above -the hedge-top for one or two minutes, loudly humming, and turning by -a succession of jerks all round, pausing after each turn, until he -has faced all points of the compass. - -This failing, he darts away and circles widely round, then returning -to the central point suspends himself as before. After spending -several minutes in this manner, he once more resumes his wanderings. -Several males are sometimes attracted to the same spot, but they pass -and repass without noticing one another. You will see as many as -three or four or half a dozen majestically moving up and down at a -hedge-side or in a narrow path in a hazel copse, each beetle turning -when he gets to the end and marching back again; and altogether their -measured, stately, and noisy movements are a fine spectacle. - -A slight wind makes a great difference to him: even a current of air -so faint as not to be felt on the face will reveal to him the exact -distant spot in which the doe is lurking. The following incident -will serve to show how perfect and almost infallible the sense and -its correlated instinct are, and at the same time what a clumsy, -blundering creature this beetle is. - -[Sidenote: Seeking a mate] - -Hearing a buzzing noise in a large unkept hedge, {73} I went to the -spot and found a stag trying to extricate himself from some soft -fern-fronds growing among the brambles in which he had got entangled. -In the end he succeeded, and, finally gaining a point where there was -nothing to obstruct his flight, he launched himself on the air and -flew straight away to a distance of fifty yards; then he turned and -commenced flying backwards and forwards, travelling forty or fifty -yards one way and as many the other, until he made a discovery; and -struck motionless in his career, he remained suspended for a moment -or two, then flew swiftly and straight as a bullet back to the hedge -from which he had so recently got away. He struck the hedge where it -was broadest, at a distance of about twenty yards or more from the -point where I had first found him, and running to the spot, I saw -that he had actually alighted within four or five inches of a female -concealed among the clustering leaves. On his approaching her she -coyly moved from him, climbing up and down and along the branchlets, -but for some time he continued very near her. So far he had followed -on her track, or by the same branches and twigs over which she had -passed, but on her getting a little farther away and doubling back, -he attempted to reach her by a series of short cuts, over the little -bridges formed by innumerable slender branches, and his short cuts in -most cases brought him against some obstruction; or else there was a -sudden bend in the branch, and he was taken farther away. When he -had a chain of bridges or turnings, he seemed fated to take the wrong -one, {74} and in spite of all his desperate striving to get nearer, -he only increased the distance between them. The level sun shone -into the huge tangle of bramble, briar, and thorn, with its hundreds -of interlacing branches and stringy stems, so that I was able to keep -both beetles in sight; but after I had watched them for -three-quarters of an hour, the sun departed, and I too left them. -They were then nearly six feet apart; and seeing what a labyrinth -they were in, I concluded that, strive how the enamoured creature -might, they would never, from the stag-beetle point of view, be -within measurable distance of one another. - -Something in the appearance of the big beetle, both flying and when -seen on the ground in his wrathful, challenging attitude, strikes the -rustics of these parts as irresistibly comic. When its heavy flight -brings it near the labourer in the fields, he knocks it down with his -cap, then grins at the sight of the maltreated creature's amazement -and indignation. However weary the ploughman may be when he plods -his homeward way, he will not be too tired to indulge in this ancient -practical joke. When the beetle's flight takes him by village or -hamlet, the children, playing together in the road, occupied with -some such simple pastime as rolling in the dust or making little -miniature hills of loose sand, are suddenly thrown into a state of -wild excitement, and, starting to their feet, they run whooping after -the wanderer, throwing their caps to bring him down. - -[Sidenote: A stag-beetle's fate] - -One evening at sunset, on coming to a forest gate {75} through which -I had to pass, I saw a stag-beetle standing in his usual statuesque, -angry or threatening attitude in the middle of the road close to the -gate. Doubtless some labourer who had arrived at the gate earlier in -the evening had struck it down for fun and left it there. By-and-by, -I thought, he will recover from the shock to his dignity and make his -way to some elevated point, from which he will be able to start -afresh on his wanderings in search of a wife. But it was not to be -as I thought, for next morning, on going by the same gate, I found -the remains of my beetle just where I had last seen him--the legs, -wing-cases, and the big, broad head with horns attached. The poor -thing had remained motionless too long, and had been found during the -evening by a hedgehog and devoured, all but the uneatable parts. On -looking closely, I found that the head was still alive; at a touch -the antennę--those mysterious jointed rods, toothed like a comb at -their ends--began to wave up and down, and the horns opened wide, -like the jaws of an angry crab. On placing a finger between them -they nipped it as sharply as if the creature had been whole and -uninjured. Yet the body had been long devoured and digested; and -there was only this fragment left, and, torn off with it, shall we -say? a fragment of intelligent life! - -We always look on this divisibility of the life-principle in some -creatures with a peculiar repugnance; and, like all phenomena that -seem to contradict the regular course of nature, it gives a {76} -shock to the mind. We do not experience this feeling with regard to -plant life, and to the life of some of the lower animal organisms, -because we are more familiar with the sight in these cases. The -trouble to the mind is in the case of the higher life of sentient and -intelligent beings that have passions like our own. We see it even -in some vertebrates, especially in serpents, which are most tenacious -of life. Thus, there is a recorded case of a pit viper, the head of -which was severed from the body by the person who found it. When the -head was approached the jaws opened and closed with a vicious snap, -and when the headless trunk was touched it instantly recoiled and -struck at the touching object. - -[Sidenote: Tenacity of life] - -Such cases are apt to produce in some minds a sense as of something -unfamiliar and uncanny behind nature that mocks us. But even those -who are entirely free from any such animistic feeling are strangely -disturbed at the spectacle, not only because it is opposed to the -order of nature (as the mind apprehends it), but also because it -contradicts the old fixed eternal idea we all have, that life is -compounded of two things--the material body and the immaterial -spirit, which leavens and, in a sense, re-creates and shines in and -through the clay it is mixed with; and that you cannot destroy the -body without also destroying or driving out that mysterious, subtle -principle. Life was thus anciently likened to a seal, which is two -things in one--the wax and the impression on it. You cannot break -the seal without also destroying the impression, any more than you -can {77} break a pitcher without spilling the liquor in it. In such -cases as those of the beetle and the serpent, it would perhaps be -better to liken life to a red, glowing ember, which may be broken -into pieces, and each piece still burn and glow with its own portion -of the original heat. - -The survival after death of something commonly supposed to be -dependent on vitality is another phenomenon which, like that of the -divisibility of the life-principle, affects us disagreeably. The -continued growth of the hair of dead men is an instance in point. It -is, we know, an error, caused by the shrinking of the flesh; and as -for the accounts of coffins being found full of hair when opened, -they are inventions, though still believed in by some persons. -Another instance, which is not a fable, is that of a serpent's skin. -When properly and quickly dried after removal, it will retain its -bright colours for an indefinite time--in some cases for many years. -But at intervals the colours appear to fade, or become covered with a -misty whiteness; and the cause, as one may see when the skin is -rubbed or shaken, is that the outer scales are being shed. They come -off separately, and are very much thinner than when the living -serpent sheds his skin, and they grow thinner with successive -sheddings until they are scarcely visible. But at each shedding the -skin recovers its brightness. One in my possession continued -shedding its scale-films in this way for about ten years. I used it -for a book-marker and often had it in my hands, but not until it -ceased shedding its {78} scale-coverings, and its original bright -green colour turned to dull blackish-green, did I get rid of the -feeling that it had some life in it. - -But the most striking instance of the continuance or survival long -after death of what has seemed an attribute or manifestation of life -remains to be told. - -[Sidenote: A dead glow-worm's light] - -One cloudy, very dark night at Boldre, I was going home across a -heath with some girls from a farmhouse where we had been visiting, -when one of my young companions cried out that she could see a spark -of fire on the road before us. We then all saw it--a small, steady, -green light--but on lighting a match and looking closely at the spot, -nothing could we see except the loose soil in the road. When the -match went out the spark of green fire was there still, and we -searched again, turning the loose soil with our fingers until we -discovered the dried and shrunken remains of a glow-worm of the -previous year. It had been trodden into the sand, and the sand -driven into it, until it was hard to make out any glow-worm shape or -appearance in it. It was like a fragment of dry earth, and yet, so -long as it was in the dark, the small, brilliant green light -continued to shine from one end of it. Yet this dried old case must -have been dead and blown about in the dust for at least seven or -eight months. - -On going up to London I carried it with me in a small box: there in a -dark room it shone once more, but the light was now much fainter, and -on the following evening there was no light. For some days I tried, -by moistening it, by putting it out {79} in the sun and wind, and in -other ways, to bring back the light, but did not succeed; and, -convinced at length that it would shine no more, I had the feeling -that life had at last gone out of that dry, dusty fragment. - - -The little summer tragedies in Nature which we see or notice are very -few--not one in a thousand of those that actually take place about us -in a spot like this, teeming with midsummer life. A second one, -which impressed me at the time, had for its scene a spot not more -than eight minutes' walk from that forest gate where the stag-beetle, -too long in cooling his wrath, had been overtaken by so curious a -destiny. But before I relate this other tragedy, I must describe the -place and some of the creatures I met there. It was a point where -heath and wood meet, but do not mingle; where the marshy stream that -drains the heath flows down into the wood, and the boggy ground -sloping to the water is overgrown with a mixture of plants of -different habits--lovers of a dry soil and of a wet--heather and -furze, coarse and fine grasses, bracken and bog myrtle; and in the -wettest spots there were patches and round masses of rust-red and -orange-yellow and pale-grey lichen, and a few fragrant, shining, -yellow stars of the bog asphodel, although its flowering season was -nearly over. It was a perfect wilderness, as wild a bit of desert as -one could wish to be in, where a man could spy all day upon its shy -inhabitants, and no one would come and spy upon him. - -{80} - -Here, if anywhere, was my exulting thought when I first beheld it, -there should be adders for me. There was a snakiness in the very -look of the place, and I could almost feel by anticipation the -delightful thrill in my nerves invariably experienced at the sight of -a serpent. And as I went very cautiously along, wishing for the eyes -of a dragon-fly so as to be able to see all round me, a coil of black -and yellow caught my sight at a distance of a few yards ahead, and -was no sooner seen than gone. The spot from which the shy creature -had vanished was a small, circular, natural platform on the edge of -the bank, surrounded with grass and herbage, and a little dwarf, -ragged furze; the platform was composed of old, dead bracken and dry -grass, and had a smooth, flat surface, pressed down as if some -creature used it as a sleeping-place. It was, I saw, the favourite -sleeping- or basking-place of an adder, and by-and-by, or in a few -hours' time, I should be able to get a good view of the creature. -Later in the day, on going back to the spot, I did find my adder on -its platform, and was able to get within three or four yards, and -watch it for some minutes before it slipped gently down the bank and -out of sight. - -[Sidenote: Watching adders] - -This adder was a very large (probably gravid) female, very bright in -the sunshine, the broad, zig-zag band an inky black on a -straw-coloured ground. On my third successful visit to the spot I -was agreeably surprised to find that my adder had not been widowed by -some fatal accident, nor left by her wandering mate to spend the -summer alone; for {81} now there were two on the one platform, -slumbering peacefully side by side. The new-comer, the male, was a -couple of inches shorter and a good deal slimmer than his mate, and -differed in colour; the zigzag mark was intensely black, as in the -other, but the ground colour was a beautiful copper red; he was, I -think, the handsomest red adder I have seen. - -On my subsequent visits to the spot I found sometimes one and -sometimes both; and I observed them a good deal at different -distances. One way was to look at them from a distance of fifteen to -twenty yards through a binocular magnifying nine diameters, which -produced in me the fascinating illusion of being in the presence of -venomous serpents of a nobler size than we have in this country. The -glasses were for pleasure only. When I watched them for profit with -my unaided eyes, I found it most convenient to stand at a distance of -three or four yards; but often I moved cautiously up to the raised -platform they reposed on, until, by bending a little forward, I could -look directly down upon them. - -When we first catch sight of an adder lying at rest in the sun, it -strikes us as being fast asleep, so motionless is it; but that it -ever does really sleep with the sun shining into its round, lidless, -brilliant eyes is hardly to be believed. The immobility which we -note at first does not continue long; watch the adder lying -peacefully in the sun, and you will see that at intervals of a very -few minutes, and sometimes as often as once a minute, he quietly -changes his position. Now he draws his concentric coils a little -closer, {82} now spreads them more abroad; by-and-by the whole body -is extended to a sinuous band, then disposed in the form of a letter -S, or a simple horseshoe figure, and sometimes the head rests on the -body and sometimes on the ground. The gentle, languid movements of -the creature changing his position at intervals are like those of a -person reclining in a hot bath, who occasionally moves his body and -limbs to renew and get the full benefit of the luxurious sensation. - -That the two adders could see me when I stood over them, or at a -distance of three or four yards, or even more, is likely; but it is -certain that they did not regard me as a living thing, or anything to -be disturbed at, but saw me only as a perfectly motionless object -which had grown imperceptibly on their vision, and was no more than a -bush, or stump, or tree. Nevertheless, I became convinced that -always after standing for a time near them my presence produced a -disturbing effect. It is, perhaps, the case that we are not all -contained within our visible bodies, but have our own atmosphere -about us--something of us which is outside of us, and may affect -other creatures. More than that, there may be a subtle current which -goes out and directly affects any creature (or person) which we -regard for any length of time with concentrated attention. This is -one of the things about which we know nothing, or, at all events, -learn nothing from our masters, and most scientists would say that it -is a mere fancy; but in this instance it was plain to see that always -after a time something began to produce a disturbing effect {83} on -the adders. This would first show itself in a slight restlessness, a -movement of the body as if it had been breathed upon, increasing -until they would be ill at ease all the time, and at length they -would slip quietly away to hide under the bank. - -The following incident will show that they were not disturbed at -seeing me standing near, assuming that they could or did see me. On -one of my visits I took some pieces of scarlet ribbon to find out by -an experiment if there was any truth in the old belief that the sight -of scarlet will excite this serpent to anger. I approached them in -the usual cautious way, until I was able, bending forward, to look -down upon them reposing unalarmed on their bed of dry fern; then, -gradually putting one hand out until it was over them, I dropped from -it first one then another piece of silk so that they fell gently upon -the edge of the platform. The adders must have seen these bright -objects so close to them, yet they did not suddenly draw back their -heads, nor exsert their tongues, nor make the least movement, but it -was as if a dry, light, dead leaf, or a ball of thistledown, had -floated down and settled near them, and they had not heeded it. - -In the same way they probably saw me, and it was as if they had seen -me not, since they did not heed my motionless figure; but that they -always felt my presence after a time I felt convinced, for not only -when I stood close to and looked down upon them, but also at a -distance of four to eight yards, after gazing fixedly at them for -some minutes, {84} the change, the tremor, would appear, and in a -little while they would steal away. - -Enough has been said to show how much I liked the company of these -adders, even when I knew that my presence disturbed their placid -lives in some indefinable way. They were indeed more to me than all -the other adders, numbering about a score, which I had found at their -favourite basking-places in the neighbourhood. For they were often -to be found in that fragrant, sequestered spot where their home was; -and they were two together, of different types, both beautiful, and -by observing them day by day I increased my knowledge of their kind. -We do not know very much about "the life and conversation" of adders, -having been too much occupied in "bruising" their shining beautiful -bodies beneath our ironshod heels, and with sticks and stones, to -attend to such matters. So absorbed was I in contemplating or else -thinking about them at that spot that I was curiously indifferent to -the other creatures--little lizards, and butterflies, and many young -birds brought by their parents to the willows and alders that shaded -the stream. All day the birds dozed on their gently swaying perches, -chirping at intervals to be fed; and near by a tree-pipit had his -stand, and sang and sang when most songsters were silent, but I paid -no attention even to his sweet strains. Two or three hundred yards -away, up the stream on a boggy spot, a pair of pewits had their -breeding-place. They were always there, and invariably on my -appearance they rose up and {85} came to me, and, winnowing the air -over my head, screamed their loudest. But I took no notice, and was -not annoyed, knowing that their most piercing cries would have no -effect on the adders, since their deaf ears heard nothing, and their -brilliant eyes saw next to nothing, of all that was going on about -them. After vexing their hearts in vain for a few minutes the pewits -would go back to their own ground, then peace would reign once more. - -[Sidenote: A dead young pewit] - -One day I was surprised and a little vexed to find that the pewits -had left their own ground to come and establish themselves on the bog -within forty yards of the spot where I was accustomed to take my -stand when observing the adders. Their anxiety at my presence had -now become so intensified that it was painful to witness. I -concluded that they had led their nearly grown-up young to that spot, -and sincerely hoped that they would be gone on the morrow. But they -remained there five days; and as their solicitude and frantic efforts -to drive me away were renewed on each visit, they were a source of -considerable annoyance. On the fourth day I accidentally discovered -their secret. If I had not been so taken up with the adders, I might -have guessed it. Going over the ground I came upon a dead full-grown -young pewit, raised a few inches above the earth by the heather it -rested on, its head dropped forward, its motionless wings partly open. - -Usually at the moment of death a bird beats violently with its wings, -and after death the wings remain half open. This was how the pewit -had died, {86} the wings half folded. Picking it up, I saw that it -had been dead several days, though the carrion beetles had not -attacked it, owing to its being several inches above the ground. It -had, in fact, no doubt been already dead when I first found the old -pewits settled at that spot; yet during those four hot, long summer -days they had been in a state of the most intense anxiety for the -safety of these dead remains! This is to my mind not only a very -pathetic spectacle, but one of the strangest facts in animal life. -The reader may say that it is not at all strange, since it is very -common. It is most strange to me because it is very common, since if -it were rare we could say that it was due to individual aberration, -or resulted through the bluntness of some sense or instinct. What is -wonderful and almost incredible is that the higher vertebrates have -no instinct to guide them in such a case as I have described, and no -inherited knowledge of death. To make of Nature a person, we may see -that in spite of her providential care for all her children, and wise -ordering of their lives down to the minutest detail, she has yet -failed in this one thing. Her only provision is that the dead shall -be speedily devoured; but they are not thus removed in numberless -instances; a very familiar one is the sight of living and dead young -birds, the dead often in a state of decay, lying together in one -nest: and here we cannot but see that the dead become a burden and a -danger to the living. Birds and mammals are alike in this. They -will call, and wait for, and bring food to, and try to rouse the dead -{87} young or mate; day and night they will keep guard over it and -waste themselves in fighting to save it from their enemies. Yet we -can readily believe that an instinct fitted to save an animal from -all this vain excitement, and labour, and danger, would be of -infinite advantage to the species that possessed it. - -[Sidenote: Animals and their dead] - -In some social hymenopterous insects we see that the dead are -removed; it would be impossible for ants to exist in communities -numbering many thousands and tens of thousands of members crowded in -a small space without such a provision. The dead ant is picked up by -the first worker that happens to come that way and discovers it, and -carried out and thrown away. Probably some chemical change which -takes place in the organism on the cessation of life and makes it -offensive to the living has given rise to this healthy instinct. The -dead ant is not indeed seen as a dead fellow-being, but as so much -rubbish, or "matter in the wrong place," and is accordingly removed. -We can confidently say that this is not a knowledge of death, from -what has been observed of the behaviour of ants on the death of some -highly regarded individual in the nest--a queen, for instance. On -this point I will quote a passage from the Rev. William Gould's -_Account of English Ants_, dated 1747. His small book may be -regarded as a classic, at all events by naturalists; albeit the -editors of our _Dictionary of National Biography_ have not thought -proper to give him a place in that work, in which so many -obscurities, especially of the nineteenth century, have had their -little lives recorded. - -{88} - -It may be remarked in passing that the passage to be quoted is a very -good sample of the style of our oldest entomologist, the first man in -England to observe the habits of insects. His small volume dates -many years before the _Natural History of Selborne_, and his style, -it will be seen, is very different from that of Gilbert White. We -know from Lord Avebury's valuable book on the habits of ants that -Gould was not mistaken in these remarkable observations. - - - In whatever Apartment a Queen Ant condescends to be present, she - commands Obedience and Respect. An universal Gladness spreads - itself through the whole Cell, which is expressed by particular - Acts of Joy and Exultation. They have a peculiar Way of - skipping, leaping, and standing upon their Hind Legs, and - prancing with the others. These Frolicks they make use of, both - to congratulate each other when they meet, and to show their - Regard for the Queen.... Howsoever romantick this Description - may appear, it may easily be proved by an obvious Experiment. If - you place a Queen Ant with her Retinue under a Glass, you will in - a few Moments be convinced of the Honour they pay, and Esteem - they entertain for her. There cannot be a more remarkable - Instance than what happened to a Black Queen, the beginning of - last Spring. I had placed her with a large Retinue in a sliding - Box, in the Cover of which was an Opening sufficient for the - Workers to pass to and fro, but so narrow as to confine the - Queen. A Corps was constantly in waiting and surrounded her, - whilst others went out in search of Provisions. By some - Misfortune she died; the Ants, as if not apprised of her Death, - continued their Obedience. They even removed her from one Part - of the Box to another, and treated her with the same Court and - Formality as if she had been alive. This lasted two Months, at - the End of which, the Cover being open, they forsook the Box, and - carried her off. - - -Two days after I found the dead pewit the parent birds disappeared; -and a little later I paid my last visit to the adders, and left them -with the greatest reluctance, for they had not told me a hundredth -part of their unwritten history. - - - - -{89} - -CHAPTER V - -Cessation of song--Oak woods less silent than others--Mixed -gatherings of birds in oak woods--Abundance of -caterpillars--Rapacious insects--Wood ants--Alarm cries of woodland -birds--Weasel and small birds--Fascination--Weasel and short-tailed -vole--Account of Egyptian cats fascinated by fire--Rabbits and -stoats--Mystery of fascination--Cases of pre-natal -suggestion--Hampshire pigs fascinated by fire--Conjectures as to the -origin of fascination--A dead squirrel--A squirrel's fatal -leap--Fleas large and small--Shrew and fleas--Fleas in woods--The -squirrel's disposition--Food-hiding habit in animals--Memory in -squirrels and dogs--The lower kind of memory. - - -The nightingale ceases singing about 18th or 20th June. A bird here -and there may sing later; I occasionally hear one as late as the -first days of July. And because the nightingale is not so numerous -as the other singers, and his song attracts more attention, we get -the idea that his musical period is soonest over. Yet several other -species come to the end of their vocal season quite as early, or but -little later. If it be an extremely abundant species, as in the case -of the willow-wren, we will hear a score or fifty sing for every -nightingale. Blackcap and garden warbler, whitethroat and lesser -whitethroat, are nearly silent, too, at the beginning of July; and -altogether it seems to be the rule that the species oftenest heard -after June are the most abundant. - -{90} - -The woodland silence increases during July and August, not only -because the singing season is ended, but also because the birds are -leaving the woods: that darkness and closeness which oppresses us -when we walk in the deep shade is not congenial to them; besides, -food is less plentiful than in the open places, where the sun shines -and the wind blows. - -Woods, again, vary greatly in character and the degree of -attractiveness they have for birds: the copse and spinney keep a part -of their population through the hottest months; and coming to large -woods the oak is never oppressive like the beech and other deciduous -trees. It spreads its branches wide, and has wide spaces which let -in the light and air; grass and undergrowth flourish beneath it, and, -better than all, it abounds in bird food on its foliage above all -trees. - -My favourite woods were almost entirely of oak with a holly -undergrowth, and at some points oaks were mixed with firs. They were -never gloomy nor so silent as most woods; but in July, as a rule, one -had to look for the birds, since they were no longer distributed -through the wood as in the spring and early summer, but were -congregated at certain points. - -[Sidenote: Mixed bird-companies] - -Most persons are familiar with those companies of small birds which -form in woods in winter, composed of tits of all species, with -siskins, goldcrests, and sometimes other kinds. The July gatherings -are larger, include more species, and do not travel incessantly like -the winter companies. They are composed of families--parent birds -and their young, {91} lately out of the nest, brought to the oaks to -be fed on caterpillars. It may be that their food is more abundant -at certain points, but it is also probable that their social -disposition causes them to congregate. Walking in the silent woods -you begin to hear them at a considerable distance ahead--a great -variety of sounds, mostly of that shrill, sharp, penetrative -character which is common to many young passerine birds when calling -to be fed. The birds will sometimes be found distributed over an -acre of ground, a family or two occupying every large oak tree--tits, -finches, warblers, the tree-creeper, nuthatch, and the jay. What, -one asks, is the jay doing in such company? He is feeding at the -same table, and certainly not on them. All, jays included, are -occupied with the same business, minutely examining each cluster of -leaves, picking off every green caterpillar, and extracting the -chrysalids from every rolled-up leaf. The airy little leaf-warblers -and the tits do this very deftly; the heavier birds are obliged to -advance with caution along the twig until by stretching the neck they -can reach their prey lurking in the green cluster, and thrust their -beaks into each little green web-fastened cylinder. But all are -doing the same thing in pretty much the same way. While the old -birds are gathering food, the young, sitting in branches close by, -are incessantly clamouring to be fed, their various calls making a -tempest of shrill and querulous sounds in the wood. And the -shrillest of all are the long-tailed tits; these will not sit still -and wait like the others, {92} but all, a dozen or fifteen to a -brood, hurry after their busy parents, all the time sending out those -needles of sound in showers. Of hard-billed birds the chaffinch, as -usual, was the most numerous, but there were, to my surprise, many -yellowhammers; all these, like the rest, with their newly brought out -young. The presence of the hawfinch was another surprise; and here I -noticed that the hunger call of the young hawfinch is the loudest of -all--a measured, powerful, metallic chirp, heard high above the -shrill hubbub. - -[Sidenote: Caterpillars and ants] - -Watching one of these busy companies of small birds at work, one is -amazed at the thought of the abundance of larval insect life in these -oak woods. The caterpillars must be devoured in tens of thousands -every day for some weeks, yet when the time comes one is amazed again -at the numbers that have survived to know a winged life. On July -evenings with the low sun shining on the green oaks at this place I -have seen the trees covered as with a pale silvery mist--a mist -composed of myriads of small white and pale-grey moths fluttering -about the oak foliage. Yet it is probable that all the birds eat is -but a small fraction of the entire number destroyed. The rapacious -insects are in myriads too, and are most of them at war with the -soft-bodied caterpillars. The earth under the bed of dead leaves is -full of them, and the surface is hunted over all day by the wood or -horse ants--_Formica rufa_. One day, standing still to watch a -number of these ants moving about in all directions over the ground, -I saw a green {93} geometer caterpillar fall from an oak leaf above -to the earth, and no sooner had it dropped than an ant saw and -attacked it, seizing it at one end of its body with his jaws. The -caterpillar threw itself into a horseshoe form, and then, violently -jerking its body round, flung the ant away to a distance of a couple -of inches. But the attack was renewed, and three times the ant was -thrown violently off; then another ant came, and he, too, was twice -thrown off; then a third ant joined in the fight, and when all three -had fastened their jaws on their victim the struggle ceased, and the -caterpillar was dragged away. That is the fate of most caterpillars -that come to the ground. But the ants ascend the trees; you see them -going up and coming down in thousands, and you find on examination -that they distribute themselves over the whole tree, even to the -highest and farthest terminal twigs. And their numbers are -incalculable--here in the Forest, at all events. Not only are their -communities large, numbering hundreds of thousands in a nest, but -their nests here are in hundreds, and it is not uncommon to find them -in groups, three or four up to eight or ten, all within a distance of -a few yards of one another. - -I had thought to write more, a whole chapter in fact, on this -fascinating and puzzling insect--our "noble ant," as our old -ant-lover Gould called it; but I have had to throw out that and much -besides in order to keep this book within reasonable dimensions. - -There is another noise of birds in all woods and copses in the silent -season which is familiar to {94} everyone--the sudden excited cries -they utter at the sight of some prowling animal--fox, cat, or stoat. -Even in the darkest, stillest woods these little tempests of noise -occasionally break out, for no sooner does one bird utter the alarm -cry than all within hearing hasten to the spot to increase the -tumult. These tempests are of two kinds--the greater and lesser; in -the first jays, blackbirds, and missel-thrushes take part, the magpie -too, if he is in the wood, and almost invariably the outcry is caused -by the appearance of one of the animals just named. In the smaller -outbreaks, which are far more frequent, none of these birds take any -part, not even the excitable blackbird, in spite of his readiness to -make a noise on the least provocation. Only the smaller birds are -concerned here, from the chaffinch down; and the weasel is, I -believe, almost always the exciting cause. If it be as I think, a -curious thing is that birds like the chaffinch and the tits, which -have their nests placed out of its reach, should be so overcome at -the sight of this minute creature which hunts on the ground, and -which blackbirds and jays refuse to notice in spite of the outrageous -din of the finches. The chaffinch is invariably first and loudest in -these outbreaks; a dozen or twenty times a day, even in July and -August, you will hear his loud passionate _pink-pink_ calling on all -of his kind to join him, and by-and-by, if you can succeed in getting -to the spot, you will hear other species joining in--the girding of -oxeye and blue tit, the angry, percussive note of the wren, the low -wailing of the robin, and {95} the still sadder dunnock, and the -small plaintive cries of the tree-warblers. - -[Sidenote: Weasel and small birds] - -What an idle demonstration, what a fuss about nothing it seems! The -minute weasel is on the track of a vole or a wood-mouse and cannot -harm the birds. Yes, he can take the nestlings from the robin's and -willow-wren's nests, and from other nests built on the ground, but -what has the chaffinch to do with it all? Can it be that there is -some fatal weakness in birds, in spite of their wings, in this bird -especially, such as exists in voles, and mice, and rabbits, and in -frogs and lizards, which brings them down to destruction, and of -which they are in some way conscious? Some months ago there was a -correspondence in the _Field_ which touched upon this very subject. -One gentleman wrote that he had found three freshly-killed adult cock -chaffinches in a weasel's nest, and he asked in consequence how this -small creature that hunts on the ground could be so successful in -capturing so alert and vigorous a bird as this finch. - -For a long time before this correspondence appeared I had been trying -to find out the secret of the matter, but the weasel has keen senses, -and it is hard to see and follow his movements in a copse without -alarming him. One day, over a year ago, near Boldre, I was fortunate -enough to hear a commotion of the lesser kind at a spot where I could -steal upon without alarming the little beast. There was an oak tree, -with some scanty thorn-bushes growing beside the trunk, and stealing -quietly to the spot I peeped {96} through the screening thorns, and -saw a weasel lying coiled round, snakewise, at the roots of the oak -in a bed of dead leaves. He was grinning and chattering at the -birds, his whole body quivering with excitement. Close to him on the -twigs above the birds were perched, and fluttering from twig to -twig--chaffinches, wrens, robins, dunnocks, oxeyes, and two or three -willow-wrens and chiffchaffs. The chaffinches were the most excited, -and were nearest to him. Suddenly, after a few moments, the weasel -began wriggling and spinning round with such velocity that his shape -became indistinguishable, and he appeared as a small round red object -violently agitated, his rapid motions stirring up the dead leaves so -that they fluttered about him. Then he was still again, but -chattering and quivering, then again the violent motion, and each -time he made this extraordinary movement the excitement and cries of -the birds increased and they fluttered closer down on the twigs. -Unluckily, just when I was on the point of actually witnessing the -end of this strange little drama--a chaffinch, I am sure, would have -been the victim--the little flat-headed wretch became aware of my -presence, not five yards from him, and springing up he scuttled into -hiding. - -[Sidenote: Fascination] - -If, as I think, certain species of birds are so thrown off their -mental balance by the sight of this enemy as to come in their frenzy -down to be taken by him, it is clear that he fascinates--to use the -convenient old word--in two different ways, or that his furred and -feathered victims are differently affected. In the {97} case of the -rabbits and of the small rodents, we see that they recognise the -dangerous character of their pursuer and try their best to escape -from him, but that they cannot attain their normal speed--they cannot -run as they do from a man, or dog, or other enemy, or as they run -ordinarily when chasing one another. Yet it is plain to anyone who -has watched a rabbit followed by a stoat that they strain every nerve -to escape, and, conscious of their weakness, are on the brink of -despair and ready to collapse. The rabbit's appearance when he is -being followed, even when his foe is at a distance behind, his -trembling frame, little hopping movements, and agonising cries, which -may be heard distinctly three or four hundred yards away, remind us -of our own state in a bad dream, when some terrible enemy, or some -nameless horror, is coming swiftly upon us; when we must put forth -our utmost speed to escape instant destruction, yet have a leaden -weight on our limbs that prevents us from moving. - -I have often watched rabbits hunted by stoats, and recently, at -Beaulieu, I watched a vole hunted by a weasel, and it was simply the -stoat and rabbit hunt in little. - -[Sidenote: Weasel and vole] - -It is a typical case, and I will describe just what I saw, and saw -very well. I was on the hard, white road between Beaulieu village -and Hilltop, when the little animal--a common field vole--came out -from the hedge and ran along the road, and knowing from his -appearance that he was being pursued, I stood still to see the -result. He had a very odd look: {98} instead of a smooth-haired -little mouse-like creature running smoothly and swiftly over the bare -ground, he was all hunched up, his hair standing on end like -bristles, and he moved in a series of heavy painful hops. Before he -had gone half a dozen yards, the weasel appeared at the point where -the vole had come out, following by scent, his nose close to the -ground; but on coming into the open road he lifted his head and -caught sight of the straining vole, and at once dashed at and -overtook him. A grip, a little futile squeal, and all was over, and -the weasel disappeared into the hedge. But his mate had crossed the -road a few moments before--I had seen her run by me--and he wanted to -follow her, and so presently he emerged again with the vole in his -mouth, and plucking up courage ran across close to me. I stood -motionless until he was near my feet, then suddenly stamped on the -hard road, and this so startled him that he dropped his prey and -scuttled into cover. Very soon he came out again, and, seeing me so -still, made a dash to recover his vole, when I stamped again, and he -lost it again and fled; but only to return for another try, until he -had made at least a dozen attempts. Then he gave it up, and peering -at me in a bird-like way from the roadside grass began uttering a -series of low, sorrowful sounds, so low indeed that if I had been -more than six yards from him they would have been inaudible--low, and -soft, and musical, and very sad, until he quite melted my heart, and -I turned away, leaving him to his vole, feeling as much ashamed of -myself as if I had teased {99} a pretty bright-eyed little child by -keeping his cake or apple until I had made him cry. - -With regard to these fatal weaknesses in birds, mammals and reptiles, -which we see are confined to certain species, they always strike us -as out of the order of nature, or as abnormal, if the word may be -used in such a connection. Perhaps it can be properly used. I -remember that Herodotus, in his _History of Egypt_, relates that when -a fire broke out in any city in that country, the people did not -concern themselves about extinguishing it; their whole anxiety was to -prevent the cats from rushing into the flames and destroying -themselves. To this end the people would occupy all the approaches -to the burning building, forming a cordon, as it were, to keep the -cats back; but in spite of all they could do, some of them would get -through, and rush into the flames and die. The omniscient learned -person may tell me that Herodotus is the Father of Lies, if he likes, -and is anxious to say something witty and original; but I believe -this story of the cats, since not Herodotus, nor any Egyptian who was -his informant, would or could have invented such a tale. Believing -it, I can only explain it on the assumption that this Egyptian race -of cats had become subject to a fatal weakness, a hypnotic effect -caused by the sight of a great blaze. In like manner, if our -chaffinch gets too much excited and finally comes down to be -destroyed by a weasel, when he catches sight of that small red -animal, or sees him going through that strange antic performance -which I witnessed, it does not follow that the {100} weakness or -abnormality is universal in the species. It may be only in a race. - -[Sidenote: Strange weaknesses] - -Again, with regard to rabbits: when hunted by a stoat they endeavour -to fly, but cannot, and are destroyed owing to that strange--one -might almost say unnatural--weakness; but I can believe that if a -colony of British rabbits were to inhabit, for a good many -generations, some distant country where there are no stoats, this -weakness would be outgrown. It is probable that, even in this -stoat-infested country, not all individuals are subject to such a -failing, and that, in those which have it, it differs in degree. If -it is a weakness, a something inimical, then it is reasonable to -believe that nature works to eliminate it, whether by natural -selection or some other means. - -The main point is the origin of this flaw in certain races, and -perhaps species. How comes it that certain animals should, in -certain circumstances, act in a definite way, as by instinct, to the -detriment of their own and the advantage of some other species--in -this case that of a direct and well-known enemy? It is a mystery, -one which, so far as I know, has not yet been looked into. A small -ray of light may be thrown on the matter, if we consider the fact of -those strange weaknesses and mental abnormalities in our own species, -which are supposed to have their origin in violent emotional and -other peculiar mental states in one of our parents. "The fathers -have eaten sour grapes, and their children's teeth are set on edge," -is one of the old proverbs quoted by Ezekiel. I know of one -unfortunate person who, if he but sees {101} a lemon squeezed, or a -child biting an unripe-looking fruit, has his teeth so effectually -set on edge, that he cannot put food into his mouth for some time -after. Here is a farmer, a big, strong, healthy man, who himself -works on his farm like any labourer, who, if he but catches sight of -any ophidian--adder, or harmless grass snake, or poor, innocent -blindworm--instantly lets fall the implements from his hands, and -stands trembling, white as a ghost, for some time; then, finally, he -goes back to the house, slowly and totteringly, like some very aged, -feeble invalid, and dropping on to a bed, he lies nerveless for the -rest of that day. Night and sleep restore him to his normal state. - -I give this one of scores of similar cases which I have found. Such -things are indeed very common. But how does the fact of pre-natal -suggestion help us to get the true meaning of such a phenomenon as -fascination? It does not help us if we consider it by itself. It is -a fact that "freaks" of this kind, mental and physical, are -transmissible, but that helps us little--the abnormal individual has -the whole normal race against him. Thus, in reference to the cat -story in Herodotus, here in a Hampshire village, a mile or two from -where I am writing this chapter, a cottage took fire one evening, and -when the villagers were gathered on the spot watching the progress of -the fire, some pigs--a sow with her young ones--appeared on the scene -and dashed into the flames. The people rushed to the rescue, and -with some difficulty pulled the pigs out; and finally hurdles had to -be brought {102} and placed in the way of the sow to prevent her -getting back, so anxious was she to treat the villagers to roast pig. - -This is a case of the hypnotic effect of fire on animals, and perhaps -many similar cases would be found if looked for. We know that most -animals are strangely attracted by fire at night, but they fear it -too, and keep at a proper distance. It draws and disturbs but does -not upset their mental balance. But how it came about that a whole -race of cats in ancient Egypt were thrown off their balance and were -always ready to rush into destruction like the Hampshire pigs, is a -mystery. - -To return to fascination. Let us (to personify) remember that Nature -in her endeavours to safeguard all and every one of her creatures has -given them the passion of fear in various degrees, according to their -several needs, and in the greatest degree to her persecuted -weaklings; and this emotion, to be efficient, must be brought to the -extreme limit, beyond which it becomes debilitating and is a positive -danger, even to betraying to destruction the life it was designed to -save. Let us consider this fact in connection with that of pre-natal -suggestion--of weak species frequently excited to an extremity of -fear at the sight, familiar to them, of some deadly enemy, and the -possible effect of that constantly recurring violent disturbance and -image of terror on the young that are to be. - -The guess may go for what it is worth. We know that the -susceptibility of certain animals--the vole {103} and the frog, let -us say--to fascination, is like nothing else in animal life, since it -is a great disadvantage to the species, a veritable weakness, which -might even be called a disease; and that it must therefore have its -cause in too great a strain on the system somewhere; and we know, -too, that it is inheritable. But the facts are too few, since no one -has yet taken pains to collect data on the matter. There is a good -deal of material lying about in print; and I am astonished at many -things I hear from intelligent keepers, and other persons who see a -good deal of wild life, bearing on this subject. But I do not now -propose to follow it any further. - - -I went into the oak wood one morning, and, finding it unusually -still, betook myself to a spot where I had often found the birds -gathered. It was a favourite place, where there was running water -and very large trees standing wide apart, with a lawn-like green turf -beneath them. This green space was about half an acre in extent, and -was surrounded by a thicker wood of oak and holly, with an -undergrowth of brambles. Here I found a dead squirrel lying on the -turf under one of the biggest oaks, looking exceedingly conspicuous -with the bright morning sun shining on him. - -A poor bag! the reader may say, but it was the day of small things at -the end of July, and this dead creature gave me something to think -about. How in the name of wonder came it to be dead at that peaceful -place, where no gun was fired! I could not believe that he had died, -for never had I seen a finer, {104} glossier-coated, -better-nourished-looking squirrel. "Whiter than pearls are his -teeth," were Christ's words in the legend when His followers looked -with disgust and abhorrence at a dead dog lying in the public way. -This dead animal had more than pearly teeth to admire; he was -actually beautiful to the sight, lying graceful in death on the moist -green sward in his rich chestnut reds and flower-like whiteness. The -wild, bright-eyed, alert little creature--it seemed a strange and -unheard-of thing that he, of all the woodland people, should be lying -there, motionless, not stiffened yet and scarcely cold. - -A keeper in Hampshire told me that he once saw a squirrel -accidentally kill itself in a curious way. The keeper was walking on -a hard road, and noticed the squirrel high up in the topmost branches -of the trees overhead, bounding along from branch to branch before -him, and by-and-by, failing to grasp the branch it had aimed at, it -fell fifty or sixty feet to the earth, and was stone-dead when he -picked it up from the road. But such accidents must be exceedingly -rare in the squirrel's life. - -[Sidenote: Fleas large and small] - -Looking closely at my dead squirrel to make sure that he had no -external hurt, I was surprised to find its fur peopled with lively -black fleas, running about as if very much upset at the death of -their host. These fleas were to my eyes just like _pulex -irritans_--our own flea; but it is doubtful that it was the same, as -we know that a great many animals have their own species to tease -them. Now, I have noticed that some very small animals have very -small fleas; and {105} that, one would imagine, is as it should be, -since fleas are small to begin with, because they cannot afford to be -large, and the flea that would be safe on a dog would be an -unsuitable parasite for so small a creature as a mouse. The common -shrew is an example. It has often happened that when in an early -morning walk I have found one lying dead on the path or road and have -touched it, out instantly a number of fleas have jumped. And on -touching it again, there may be a second and a third shower. These -fleas, parasitical on so minute a mammal, are themselves -minute--pretty sherry-coloured little creatures, not half so big as -the dog's flea. It appears to be a habit of some wild fleas, when -the animal they live on dies and grows cold, to place themselves on -the surface of the fur and to hop well away when shaken. But we do -not yet know very much about their lives. Huxley once said that we -were in danger of being buried under our accumulated monographs. -There is, one is sorry to find, no monograph on the fleas; a strange -omission, when we consider that we have, as the life-work of an -industrious German, a big handsome quarto, abundantly illustrated, on -the more degraded and less interesting _Pedicularia_. - -The multitude of fleas, big and black, on my dead squirrel, seemed a -ten-times bigger puzzle than the one of the squirrel's death. For -how had they got there? They were not hatched and brought up on the -squirrel: they passed their life as larvę on the ground, among the -dead leaves, probably feeding on decayed organic matter. How did so -many of them {106} succeed in getting hold of so very sprightly and -irritable a creature, who lives mostly high up in the trees, and does -not lie about on the ground? Can it be that fleas--those proper to -the squirrel--swarm on the ground in the woods, and that without -feeding on mammalian blood they are able to propagate and keep up -their numbers? These questions have yet to be answered. - -It struck me at last that these sprightly parasites might have been -the cause of the squirrel's coming to grief; that, driven to -desperation by their persecutions, he had cast himself down from some -topmost branch, and so put an end to the worry with his life. - -[Sidenote: A squirrel's disposition] - -Squirrels abound in these woods, and but for parasites and their own -evil tempers they might be happy all the time. But they are -explosive and tyrannical to an almost insane degree; and this may be -an effect of the deleterious substances they are fond of eating. -They will feast on scarlet and orange agarics--lovely things to look -at, but deadly to creatures that are not immune. A prettier -spectacle than two squirrels fighting is not to be seen among the -oaks. So swift are they, so amazingly quick in their doublings, in -feints, attack, flight, and chase; moving not as though running on -trees and ground, but as if flying and gliding; and so rarely do they -come within touching distance of one another, that the delighted -looker-on might easily suppose that it is all in fun. In their most -truculent moods, in their fiercest fights, they cannot cease to be -graceful in all their motions. - -{107} - -A common action of squirrels, when excited, of throwing things down, -has been oddly misinterpreted by some observers who have written -about it. Here I have often watched a squirrel, madly excited at my -presence when I have stopped to watch him, dancing about and whisking -his tail, scolding in a variety of tones, and emitting that curious -sound which reminds one of the chattering cry of fieldfares when -alarmed; and finally tearing off the loose bark with his little hands -and teeth, and biting, too, at twigs and leaves so as to cause them -to fall in showers. The little pot boils over in that way, and -that's all there is to be said about it. - -Walking among the oaks one day in early winter when the trees were -nearly leafless, I noticed a squirrel sitting very quietly on a -branch; and though he did not get excited, he began to move away -before me, stopping at intervals and sitting still to watch me for a -few moments. He was a trifle suspicious, and nothing more. In this -way he went on for some distance, and by-and-by came to a long -horizontal branch thickly clothed with long lichen on its upper -sides, and instantly his demeanour changed. He was all excitement, -and bounding along the branch he eagerly began to look for something, -sniffing and scratching with his paws, and presently he pulled out a -nut which had been concealed in a crevice under the lichen, and -sitting up, he began cracking and eating it, taking no further notice -of me. The sudden change in him, the hurried search for something, -and the result, seemed to throw some light on the question of the -animal's memory with reference {108} to his habit of hiding food. It -is one common to a great number of rodents, and to many of the higher -mammals--Canidę and Felidę, and to many birds, including most, if not -all, the Corvidę. - -When the food is hidden away here, there, and everywhere, we know -from observation that in innumerable instances it is never found, and -probably never looked for again; and of the squirrel we are -accustomed to say that he no sooner hides a nut than he forgets all -about it. Doubtless he does, and yet something may bring it back to -his mind. In this matter I think there is a considerable difference -between the higher mammals, cats and dogs, for instance, and the -rodents; I think the dog has a better or more highly developed -memory. Thus, I have seen a dog looking enviously at another who had -got a bone, and after gazing at him with watering mouth for some -time, suddenly turn round and go off at a great pace to a distant -part of the ground, and there begin digging, and presently pull out a -bone of his own, which he had no doubt forgotten all about until he -was feelingly reminded of it. I doubt if a squirrel would ever rise -to this height; but on coming by chance to a spot with very marked -features, where he had once hidden a nut, then I think the sight of -the place might bring back the old impression. - -I have often remarked when riding a nervous horse, that he will -invariably become alarmed, and sometimes start at nothing, on -arriving at some spot where something had once occurred to frighten -him. The sight of the spot brings up the image of the {109} object -or sound that startled him; or, to adopt a later interpretation of -memory, the past event is reconstructed in his mind. Again, I have -noticed with dogs, when one is brought to a spot where on a former -occasion he has battled with or captured some animal, or where he has -met with some exciting adventure, he shows by a sudden change in his -manner, in eyes and twitching nose, that it has all come back to him, -and he appears as if looking for its instant repetition. - -[Sidenote: The lower kind of memory] - -We see that we possess this lower kind of memory ourselves--that its -process is the same in man and dog and squirrel. I am, for instance, -riding or walking in a part of the country which all seems -unfamiliar, and I have no recollection of ever having passed that way -before; but by-and-by I come to some spot where I have had some -little adventure, some mishap, tearing my coat or wounding my hand in -getting through a barbed-wire fence; or where I had discovered that I -had lost something, or left something behind at the inn where I last -stayed; or where I had a puncture in my tyre; or where I first saw a -rare and beautiful butterfly, or bird, or flower, if I am interested -in such things; and the whole scene--the fields and trees and hedges, -and farm-house or cottage below--is all as familiar as possible. But -it is the scene that brings back the event. The scene was impressed -on the mind at the emotional moment, and is instantly recognised, and -at the moment of recognition the associated event is remembered. - - - - -{110} - -CHAPTER VI - -Insects in Britain--Meadow ants--The indoor view of insect -life--Insects in visible nature--The humming-bird hawk-moth and the -parson lepidopterist--Rarity of death's-head moth--Hawk-moth and -meadow-pipit--Silver-washed fritillaries on bracken--Flight of the -white admiral butterfly--Dragon-flies--Want of English names--A -water-keeper on dragon-flies--Moses Harris--Why moths have English -names--Origin of the dragon-fly's bad reputation--_Cordulegaster -annulatus_--_Calopteryx virgo_--Dragon-flies -congregated--Glow-worm--Firefly and glow-worm compared--Variability -in light--The insect's attitude when shining--Supposed use of the -light--Hornets--A long-remembered sting--The hornet local in -England--A splendid insect--Insects on ivy blossoms in autumn. - - -The successive Junes, Julys, and Augusts spent in this low-lying, -warm forest country have served to restore in my mind the insect -world to its proper place in the scheme of things. In recent years, -in this northern land, it had not seemed so important a place as at -an earlier period of my life in a country nearer to the sun. Our -insects, less numerous, smaller in size, more modest in colouring, -and but rarely seen in swarms and clouds and devastating multitudes, -do not force themselves on our attention, as is the case in many -other regions of the earth. Here, for instance, where I am writing -this chapter, there is a stretch of flat, green, common land by the -Test, and on this clouded afternoon, at the end of summer, while -sitting on one of the {111} innumerable little green hillocks -covering the common, it seemed to me that I was in a vacant place -where animal life had ceased to be. Not an insect hummed in that -quiet, still atmosphere, not could I see one tiny form on the -close-cropped turf at my feet. Yet I was sitting on one of their -populous habitations. Cutting out a section of the cushion-like turf -of grass and creeping thyme that covered the hill and made it -fragrant, I found the loose, dry earth within teeming with minute -yellow ants, and many of the hillocks around were occupied by -thousands upon thousands of the same species. Indeed, I calculated -that in a hundred square yards at that spot the ant inhabitants alone -numbered not less than about two hundred thousand. - -[Sidenote: The unregarded tribes] - -It is partly on account of this smallness and secretiveness of most -of our insects--of our seeing so little of insect life generally -except during the summer heats in a few favourable localities--and -partly an effect of our indoor life, that we think and care so little -about them. The important part they play, if it is taught us, fades -out of knowledge: we grow in time to regard them as one of the -superfluities in which nature abounds despite the ancient saying to -the contrary. Or worse, as nothing but pests. What good are they to -us indeed! Very little. The silk-worm and the honey-bee have been -in a measure domesticated, and rank with, though a long way after, -our cattle, our animal pets and poultry. But wild insects! There is -the turnip-fly, and the Hessian-fly, and botfly, and all sorts of -worrying, and {112} blood-sucking, and disease-carrying flies, in and -out of houses; and gnats and midges, and fleas in seaside lodgings, -and wasps, and beetles, such as the cockchafer and blackbeetle--are -not all these pests? This is the indoor mind--its view of external -nature--which makes the society of indoor people unutterably irksome -to me, unless (it will be understood) when I meet them in a house, in -a town, where they exist in some sort of harmony, however imperfect, -with their artificial environment. - -[Sidenote: Insects in visible nature] - -I am not concerned now with the question of the place which insects -occupy in the scale of being and their part in the natural economy, -but solely with their effect on the nature-lover with or without the -"curious mind"--in fact, with insects as part of this visible and -audible world. Without them, this innumerable company that, each -"deep in his day's employ," are ever moving swiftly or slowly about -me, their multitudinous small voices united into one deep continuous -Ęolian sound, it would indeed seem as if some mysterious malady or -sadness had come upon nature. Rather would I feel them alive, -teasing, stinging, and biting me; rather would I walk in all green -and flowery places with a cloud of gnats and midges ever about me. -Nor do I wish to write now about insect life generally: my sole aim -in this chapter is to bring before the reader some of the most -notable species seen in this place--those which excel in size or -beauty, or which for some other reason are specially attractive. For -not only is this corner of Hampshire most abounding in insect life, -{113} but here, with a few exceptions, the kings and nobles of the -tribe may be met with. - -Merely to see these nobler insects as one may see them here, as -objects in the scene, and shining gems in nature's embroidery, is a -delight. And here it may be remarked that the company of the -entomologist is often quite as distasteful to me out of doors as that -of the indoor-minded person who knows nothing about insects except -that they are a "nuisance." Entomologist generally means collector, -and his--the entomologist's--admiration has suffered inevitable -decay, or rather has been starved by the growth of a more vigorous -plant--the desire to possess, and pleasure in the possession of, dead -insect cases. - -[Sidenote: The parson lepidopterist] - -One summer afternoon I was visiting at the parsonage in a small New -Forest village in this low district when my host introduced me to a -friend of his the vicar of a neighbouring parish, remarking when he -did so that I would be delighted to know him as he was a great -naturalist. The gentleman smiled, and said he was not a "great -naturalist," but only a "lepidopterist." Now it happened that just -then I had a lovely picture in my mind, the vivid image of a -humming-bird hawk-moth seen suspended on his misty wings among the -tall flowers in the brilliant August sunshine. I had looked on it -but a little while ago, and thought it one of the most beautiful -things in nature; naturally on meeting a lepidopterist I told him -what I had seen, and something of the feeling the sight had inspired -in me. He {114} smiled again, and remarked that the season had not -proved a very good one for the _Macroglossa stellatarum_. He had, so -far, seen only three specimens; the first two he had easily secured, -as he fortunately had his butterfly net when he saw them. But the -third!--he hadn't his net then; he was visiting one of his old women, -and was sitting in her garden behind the cottage talking to her when -the moth suddenly made its appearance, and began sucking at the -flowers within a yard of his chair. He knew that in a few moments it -would be gone for ever, but fortunately from long practice, and a -natural quickness and dexterity, he could take any insect that came -within reach of his hand, however wild and swift it might be. -"So!"--the parson lepidopterist explained, suddenly dashing out his -arm, then slowly opening his closed hand to exhibit the imaginary -insect he had captured. Well, he got the moth after all! And thus -owing to his quickness and dexterity all three specimens had been -secured. - -I, being no entomologist but only a simple person whose interest and -pleasure in insect life the entomologist would regard as quite -purposeless--I felt like a little boy who had been sharply rebuked or -boxed on the ear. This same lepidopterist may be dead now, although -a couple of summers ago he looked remarkably well and in the prime of -life; but I see that someone else is now parson of his parish. I -have not taken the pains to inquire; but, dead or alive, I cannot -imagine him, in that beautiful country of the Future which he perhaps -spoke about to the {115} old cottage woman--I cannot imagine him in -white raiment, with a golden harp in his hand; for if here, in this -country, he could see nothing in a hummingbird hawk-moth among the -flowers in the sunshine but an object to be collected, what in the -name of wonder will he have to harp about! - -The humming-bird hawk, owing to its diurnal habits, may be seen by -anyone at its best; but as to the other species that equal and -surpass it in lustre, their beauty, so far as man is concerned, is -all wasted on the evening gloom. They appear suddenly, are vaguely -seen for a few moments, then vanish; and instead of the clear-cut, -beautiful form, the rich and delicate colouring and airy, graceful -motions, there is only a dim image of a moving grey or brown -something which has passed before us. And some of the very best are -not to be seen even as vague shapes and as shadows. What an -experience it would be to look on the death's-head moth in a state of -nature, feeding among the flowers in the early evening, with some -sunlight to show the delicate grey-blue markings and mottlings of the -upper- and the indescribable yellow of the under-wings--is there in -all nature so soft and lovely a hue? Even to see it alive in the -only way we are able to do, confined in a box in which we have -hatched it from a chrysalis dug up in the potato patch and bought for -sixpence from a workman, to look on it so and then at its -portrait--for artists and illustrators have been trying to do it -these hundred years--is almost enough to make one hate their art. - -{116} - -My ambition has been to find this moth free, in order to discover, if -possible, whether or no it ever makes its mysterious squeaking sound -when at liberty. But I have not yet found it, and lepidopterists I -have talked to on this subject, some of whom have spent their lives -in districts where the insect is not uncommon, have assured me that -they have never seen, and never expect to see, a death's-head which -has not been artificially reared. Yet moths there must be, else -there would be no caterpillars and no chrysalids. - -[Sidenote: Moths and butterflies] - -One evening, in a potato-patch, I witnessed a large hawk-moth meet -his end in a way that greatly surprised me. I was watching and -listening to the shrilling of a great green grasshopper, or leaf -cricket, that delightful insect about which I shall have to write at -some length in another chapter, when the big moth suddenly appeared -at a distance of a dozen yards from where I stood. It was about the -size of a privet-moth, and had not been many moments suspended before -a spray of flowers, when a meadow-pipit, which had come there -probably to roost, dashed at and struck it down, and then on the -ground began a curious struggle. The great moth, looking more than -half as big as the aggressor, beat the pipit with his strong wings in -his efforts to free himself; but the other had clutched the soft, -stout body in its claws, and standing over it with wings half open -and head feathers raised, struck repeatedly at it with the greatest -fury until it was killed. Then, in the same savage hawk-like manner, -the dead thing was torn {117} up, the pipit swallowing pieces so much -too large for it that it had the greatest trouble to get them down. -The gentle, timid, little bird had for the moment put on the "rage of -the vulture." - -In the southern half of the New Forest, that part of the country -where insects of all kinds most abound, the moths and butterflies are -relatively less important as a feature of the place, and as things of -beauty, than some other kinds. The purple emperor is very rarely -seen, but the silver-washed fritillary, a handsome, conspicuous -insect, is quite common, and when several of these butterflies are -seen at one spot playing about the bracken in some open sunlit space -in the oak woods, opening their orange-red spotty wings on the broad, -vivid green fronds, they produce a strikingly beautiful effect. It -is like a mosaic of minute green tesserę adorned with red and black -butterfly shapes, irregularly placed. - -But here the most charming butterfly to my mind is the white admiral, -when they are seen in numbers, as in the abundant season of 1901, -when the oak woods were full of them. Here is a species which, seen -in a collection, is of no more value ęsthetically than a dead leaf or -a frayed feather dropped in the poultry-yard, or an old postage stamp -in an album, without a touch of brilliance on its dull blackish-brown -and white wings; yet which alive pleases the eye more than the -splendid and larger kinds solely because of its peculiarly graceful -flight. It never flutters, and as it sweeps airily hither and -thither, now high as the tree-tops, now close to the earth in {118} -the sunny glades and open brambly places in the oak woods, with an -occasional stroke of the swift-gliding wings, it gives you the idea -of a smaller, swifter, more graceful swallow, and sometimes of a -curiously-marked, pretty dragon-fly. - -[Sidenote: Dragon-flies] - -When we think of the bright colours of insects, the dragon-flies -usually come next to butterflies in the mind, and here in the warmer, -well-watered parts of the Forest they are in great force. The noble -_Anax imperator_ is not uncommon; but though so great, exceeding all -other species in size, and so splendid in his "clear plates of -sapphire mail," with great blue eyes, he is surpassed in beauty by a -much smaller kind, the _Libellula virgo alts erectis coloratis_ of -Linnęus, now called _Calopteryx virgo_. And just as the great -_imperator_ is exceeded in beauty by the small _virgo_, so is he -surpassed in that other chief characteristic of all dragon-flies to -the unscientific or natural mind, their uncanniness, by another quite -common species, a very little less than the _imperator_ in size--the -_Cordulegaster annulatus_. - -These names are a burden, and a few words must be said on this point -lest the reader should imagine that he has cause to be offended with -me personally. - -Is it not amazing that these familiar, large, showy, and -striking-looking insects have no common specific names with us? The -one exception known to me is the small beautiful _virgo_ just spoken -of, and this is called in books "Demoiselle" and "King George," but -whether these names are used by the people anywhere or not, I am -unable to say. On this point {119} I consulted an old water-keeper -of my acquaintance on the Test. He has been keeper for a period of -forty-six years, and he is supposed to be very intelligent, and to -know everything about the creatures that exist in those waters and -water-meadows. He assured me that he never heard the names of -Demoiselle and King George. "We calls them dragons and -horse-stingers," he said. "And they do sting, and no mistake, both -horse and man." He then explained that the dragon-fly dashes at its -victim, inflicts its sting, and is gone so swiftly that it is never -detected in the act; but the pain is there, and sometimes blood is -drawn. - -Nor had the ancient water-keeper ever heard another vernacular name -given by Moses Harris for this same species--kingfisher, to wit. -Moses Harris, one of our earliest entomologists, wrote during the -last half of the eighteenth century, but the date of his birth and -the facts of his life are not known. He began to publish in 1766, -his first work being on butterflies and moths. One wonders if the -unforgotten and at-no-time-neglected Gilbert White never heard of his -contemporary Moses, and never saw his beautiful illustrations of -British insects, many of which still keep their bright colours and -delicate shadings undimmed by time in his old folios. In one of his -later works, _An Exposition of English Insects_, dated 1782, he -describes and figures some of our dragon-flies. It was the custom of -this author to give the vernacular as well as the scientific names to -his species, and in describing the virgo he says: "These ... on -account of the brilliancy {120} and richness of the colouring are -called kingfishers." But he had no common name for the others, which -seemed to trouble him, and at last in desperation after describing a -certain species, he says that it is "vulgarly called the dragon-fly"! - -[Sidenote: Vernacular names] - -I pity old Moses and I pity myself. Why should we have so many -suitable and often pretty names for moths and butterflies, mostly -small obscure creatures, and none for the well-marked, -singular-looking, splendid dragon-flies? The reason is not far to -seek. When men in search of a hobby to occupy their leisure time -look to find it in some natural history subject, as others find it in -postage stamps and a thousand other things, they are, like children, -first attracted by those brilliant hues which they see in -butterflies. Moreover, these insects when preserved keep their -colours, unlike dragon-flies and some others, and look prettiest when -arranged with wings spread out in glass cases. Moths being of the -same order are included, and so we get the collector of moths and -butterflies and the lepidopterist. So exceedingly popular is this -pursuit, and the little creatures collected so much talked and -written about, that it has been found convenient to invent English -names for them, and thus we have, in moths, wood-tiger, leopard, -goat, gipsy, ermine, wood-swift, vapourer, drinker, tippet, lappet, -puss, Kentish glory, emperor, frosted green, satin carpet, coronet, -marbled beauty, rustic wing and rustic shoulder-knot, golden ear, -purple cloud, and numberless others. In fact, one could not capture -the obscurest {121} little miller that flutters round a reading-lamp -which the lepidopterist would not be able to find a pretty name for. - -The dragon-flies, being no man's hobby, are known only by the old -generic English names of dragons, horse-stingers, adder-stingers, and -devil's darning-needles. Adder-stinger is one of the commonest names -in the New Forest, but it is often simply "adder." One day while -walking with a friend on a common near Headley, we asked some boys if -there were any adders there. "Oh yes," answered a little fellow, -"you will see them by the stream flying up and down over the water." -The name does not mean that dragon-flies sting adders, but that, like -adders, they are venomous creatures. This very common and -wide-spread notion of the insect's evil disposition and injuriousness -is due to its shape and appearance--the great fixed eyes, bright and -sinister, and the long, snake-like, plated or scaly body which, when -the insect is seized, curls round in such a threatening manner. The -colouring, too, may have contributed towards the evil reputation; at -all events, one of our largest species had a remarkably serpent-like -aspect due to its colour scheme--shining jet-black, banded and -slashed with wasp-yellow. This is the magnificent _Cordulegaster -annulatus_, little inferior to the _Anax imperator_ in size, and a -very common species in the southern part of the New Forest in July. -But how astonishing and almost incredible that this singular-looking, -splendid, most dragon-like of the dragon-flies should have no English -name! - -{122} - -[Sidenote: Calopteryx virgo] - -Something remains to be said of the one dragon-fly which has got a -name, or names, although these do not appear to be known to the -country people. Mr. W. T. Lucas, in his useful monograph on the -British dragon-flies, writes enthusiastically of this species, -_Calopteryx virgo_, that it is "the most resplendent of our -dragon-flies, if not of all British insects." It is too great -praise; nevertheless the _virgo_ is very beautiful and curious, the -entire insect, wings included, being of an intense deep metallic -blue, which glistens as if the insect had been newly dipped in its -colour-bath. Unlike other dragon-flies, it flutters on the wing like -a butterfly with a weak, uncertain flight, and, again like a -butterfly, holds its blue wings erect when at rest. It is one of the -commonest as well as the most conspicuous dragon-flies on the Boldre, -the Dark Water, and other slow and marshy streams in the southern -part of the Forest. - -In South America I was accustomed to see dragon-flies in rushing -hordes and clouds, and in masses clinging like swarming bees to the -trees; here we see them as single insects, but I once witnessed a -beautiful effect produced by a large number of the common -turquoise-blue dragon-fly gathered at one spot, and this was in -Hampshire. I was walking, and after passing a night at a hamlet -called Buckhorn Oak, in Alice Holt Forest, I went next morning, on a -Sunday, to the nearest church at the small village of Rutledge. It -was a very bright windy morning in June, and the oak woods had been -stripped of their young foliage by myriads of caterpillars, so that -{123} the sunlight fell untempered through the seemingly dead trees -on the bracken that covered the ground below. Now, at one spot over -an area of about half an acre, the bracken was covered with the -common turquoise-blue dragon-fly, clinging to the fronds, their heads -to the wind, their long bodies all pointing the same way. They were -nowhere close together, but very evenly distributed, about three to -six inches apart, and the sight of the numberless slips of gem-like -blue sprinkled over the billowy, vivid green fern was a rare and -exceedingly lovely one. - -After writing of the lovely haunters of the twilight, and that -noblest one of all-- - - The great goblin moth who bears - Between his wings the ruined eyes of death, - -and the angel butterfly, and the uncanny dragon-flies--the flying -serpents in their splendour--it may seem a great descent to speak of -such a thing as a glow-worm, that poor grub-like, wingless, -dull-coloured crawler on the ground, as little attractive to the eye -as the centipede, or earwig, or the wood-louse which it resembles. -Nor is the glow-worm a southern species, since it is no more abundant -in the warmest district of Hampshire than in many other parts of the -country. Nevertheless, when treating of the Insect Notables of these -parts, this species which we call a "worm" cannot be omitted, since -it produces a loveliness surpassing that of all other kinds. - -Here it may be remarked that all the most {124} beautiful living -things, from insect to man, like all the highest productions of human -genius, produce in us a sense of the supernatural. If any reader -should say in his heart that I am wrong, that it is not so, that he -experiences no such feeling, I can but remind him that not all men -possess all human senses and faculties. Some of us--many of us--lack -this or that sense which others have. I have even met a man who was -without the sense of humour. In the case of our "worm," unbeautiful -in itself, yet the begetter of so great a beauty, the sense of -something outside of nature which shines on us through nature, even -as the sun shines in the stained glass of a church window, is more -distinctly felt than in the case of any other insect in our country, -because of the rarity of such a phenomenon. It is, with us, unique; -but many of us know the winged luminous insects of other lands. Both -are beautiful, both mysterious--the winged and the wingless; but one -light differs from another in glory even as the stars. The fire-fly -is more splendid, more surprising, in its flashes. It flashes and is -dark, and we watch, staring at the black darkness, for the succeeding -flash. It is like watching for rockets to explode in the dark sky: -there is an element of impatience which interferes with the pleasure. -To admire and have a perfect satisfaction, the insects must be in -numbers, in multitudes, sparkling everywhere in the darkness, so that -no regard is paid to any individual light, but they are seen as we -see snowflakes. - -[Sidenote: Glow-worm and firefly] - -I fancy that Dante, in describing the appearance of {125} glorified -souls in heaven, unless he took it all from Ezekiel, had the fire-fly -in his mind: - - From the bosom - Of that effulgence quivers a sharp flash, - Sudden and frequent in the guise of lightning. - - -Of all who have attempted to describe and compare the two -insects--fire-fly and glow-worm--Thomas Lovell Beddoes is the best. -Beddoes himself, in those sudden brilliant letters to his friend -Kelsall, of Fareham, in this county, was a sort of human fire-fly. -In a letter to Procter, from Milan, 1824, he wrote: - - - And what else have I seen? A beautiful and far-famed insect--do - not mistake, I mean neither the Emperor, nor the King of - Sardinia, but a much finer specimen--the fire-fly. Their bright - light is evanescent, and alternates with the darkness, as if the - swift whirling of the earth struck fire out of the black - atmosphere; as if the winds were being set upon that planetary - grindstone, and gave out such momentary sparks from their edges. - Their silence is more striking than their flashes, for sudden - phenomena are almost invariably attended with some noise, but - these little jewels dart along the dark as softly as butterflies. - For their light, it is not nearly so beautiful and poetical as - our still companion of the dew, the glow-worm, with his drop of - moonlight. - - -I agree with Beddoes, but his pretty description of our insect is not -quite accurate, as I saw this evening, when, after copious rain, the -sky cleared and a full moon shone on a wet, dusky-green earth. The -light of the suspended glow-worm was of an exquisite golden green, -and, side by side with it, the moonlight on the wet surface of a -polished leaf was shining silver-white. - -The light varies greatly in power, according, I suppose, to the -degree of excitement of the insect {126} and to the atmospheric -conditions. Occasionally you will discover a light at a distance -shining with a strange glory, a light which might be mistaken for a -will-o'-the-wisp, and on a close view you will probably find that a -male is on the scene, and the female, aware of his presence though he -may be at some distance from her, invisible in the darkness, has been -wrought up to the highest state of excitement. You will find her -clinging to a stem or leaf, her luminous part raised, and her whole -body swaying in a measured way from side to side. If the insect -happens to be a foot or two above the ground, in a tangle of bramble -and bracken, with other plants with slender stems and deep-cut -leaves, the appearance is singularly beautiful. The light looks as -if enclosed within an invisible globe, which may be as much as -fifteen inches in diameter, and within its circle the minutest -details of the scene are clear to the vision, even to the finest -veining of the leaves, the leaves shining a pure translucent green, -while outside the mystic globe of light all is in deep shadow and in -blackness. - -[Sidenote: The glow-worm's light] - -With regard to the attitude of the glow-worm when displaying its -light, we see how ignorant of the living creature the illustrators of -natural history books have been. In scores of works on our shelves, -dating from the eighteenth to the twentieth century, the glow-worm is -depicted giving out its light while crawling on the ground, and in -many illustrations the male is introduced, and is shown flying down -to its mate. They drew their figures not from life, but from -specimens in a cabinet, only leaving out the {127} pins. But the -glow-worm is not perhaps a very well-known creature. A lady in -Hampshire recently asked me if it was a species of mole that came out -of its run to exhibit its light in the darkness. The insect -invariably climbs up, and suspends itself by clinging to, a stem or -blade or leaf, and the hinder part of the body curls up until its -under surface, the luminous part, is uppermost, thus making the light -visible from the air above. In thick hedges I often find the light -four or even five feet above the ground. Occasionally a glow-worm -will shine from a flat surface, usually a big leaf on to which it has -crawled when climbing. Resting horizontally on the leaf, it curls -its abdomen up and over its body after the manner of the earwig, -until the light is in the right position. - -When we consider these facts--the way in which the body is curved and -twisted about in order (as it seems) to exhibit the light to an -insect flying through the air above, and the increase in the light -when the sexual excitement is at its greatest--the conclusion seems -unavoidable that the light has an important use, namely, to attract -the male. Unavoidable, I say, and yet I am not wholly convinced. -The fire-flies of diurnal habits may be seen flying about, feeding -and pairing, by day; yet when evening comes they fly abroad again, -exhibiting their light. What the function of the light is, or of -what advantage it is to the insect, we do not know. Again, it has -seemed to me that the male of the glow-worm, even when attracted to -the female, fears the {128} light. Thus, when the excitement of the -shining glow-worm has caused me to look for the male, I have found -him, not indeed in but outside of the circle of light, keeping close -to its borders, moving about on feet and wings in the dark herbage -and on the ground. I know very well that not a few observations made -by one person, but many--hundreds if possible--by different -observers, are needed before we can say positively that the male -glow-worm fears or is repelled by the light. But some of my -observations make me think that the male of the glow-worm, like the -males of many other species in different orders that fly by night, is -drawn to the female by the scent, and that the light is a hindrance -instead of a help, although in the end he is drawn into it. We -always find it exceedingly hard to believe that anything in nature is -without a use; but we need not go very far--not farther than our own -bodies, to say nothing of our minds--before we are compelled to -believe that it is so. We may yet find that the beautiful light of -our still companion of the dew is of no more use to it than the -precious jewel in the toad's head is to the toad. - -[Sidenote: Hornets] - -The hornet, one of my first favourites, has, to our minds, nothing -mysterious like our glow-worm, and nothing serpentine or supernatural -about him, but he is a nobler, more powerful and splendid creature -than any dragon-fly. I care not to look at a vulgar wasp nor at any -diurnal insect, however fine, when he is by, or his loud, formidable -buzzing hum is heard. As he comes out of the oak-tree shade and goes -{129} swinging by in his shining golden-red armature, he is like a -being from some other hotter, richer land, thousands of miles away -from our cold, white cliffs and grey seas. Speaking of that, our -hornet, which is at the head of the family and genus of true wasps in -Britain and Europe, is not only large and splendid for a northern -insect, since he is not surpassed in lustre by any of his -representatives in other parts of the globe. - -I admire and greatly respect him, this last feeling dating back to my -experience of wasps during my early life in South America. When a -boy I was one summer day in the dining-room at home by myself, when -in at the open door flew a grand wasp of a kind I had never seen -before, in size and form like the hornet, but its colour was a -uniform cornelian red without any yellow. Round the room it flew -with a great noise, then dashed against a window-pane, and I, greatly -excited and fearing it would be quickly gone if not quickly caught, -flew to the window, and dashing out my hand, like the wonderfully -clever parson-collector, I grasped it firmly by the back with finger -and thumb. Now, I had been accustomed to seize wasps and bees of -many kinds in this way without getting stung, but this stranger was -not like other wasps, and quickly succeeded in curling his abdomen -round, and planting his long sting in the sensitive tip of my -forefinger. Never in all my experience of stings had I suffered such -pain! I dropped my wasp like the hottest of coals, and saw him fling -himself triumphantly out of the room, and never {130} again beheld -one of his kind. Even now when I stand and watch English hornets at -work on their nests, coming and going, paying no attention to me, a -memory of that hornet of a distant land returns to my mind; and it is -like a twinge, and I venture on no liberties with _Vespa crabro_. - -The hornet is certainly not an abundant insect, nor very generally -distributed. One may spend years in some parts of the country and -never see it. I was lately asked by friends in Kent, who have their -lonely house in a wooded and perhaps the wildest spot in the county, -if the hornet still existed in England, or really was an English -insect, as they had not seen one in several years. Now in the woods -I frequent in the Forest I see them every day, and the abundance of -the hornet is indeed for me one of the attractions of the place. His -nests are rarely found in old trees, but are common about -habitations, in wood-piles, and old, little-used outhouses. I have -heard farmers say in this place that they would not hurt a hornet, -but regard it as a blessing. So it is, and so is every insect that -helps to keep down the everlasting plague of cattle-worrying and -crop-destroying flies and grubs and caterpillars. - -But I am speaking of the hornet merely as an Insect Notable, a spot -of brilliant colour in the scene, one of the shining beings that -inhabit these green mansions. He is magnificent, and it is perhaps -partly due to his vivid and lustrous red and gold colour, his noisy -flight, and fierce hostile attitudes, and partly to the knowledge of -his angry spirit and venomous {131} sting, which makes him look twice -as big as he really is. - -One of the most impressive sights in insect life is, strange to say, -in the autumn, when cold rains and winds and early frosts have -already brought to an end all that seemed best and brightest in that -fairy world. - -[Sidenote: Insects on ivy blossoms] - -This is where an ancient or large ivy grows in some well-sheltered -spot on a wall or church, or on large old trees in a wood, and -flowers profusely, and when on a warm bright day in late September or -in October all the insects which were not wholly dead revive for a -season, and are drawn by the ivy's sweetness from all around to that -one spot. There are the late butterflies, and wasps and bees of all -kinds, and flies of all sizes and colours--green and steel-blue, and -grey and black and mottled, in thousands and tens of thousands. They -are massed on the clustered blossoms, struggling for a place; the air -all about the ivy is swarming with them, flying hither and thither, -and the humming sound they produce may be heard fifty yards away like -a high wind. One cannot help a feeling of melancholy at this -animated scene; but they are anything but melancholy. Their life has -been a short and a merry one, and now that it is about to end for -ever they will end it merrily, in feasting and revelry. - -And never does the hornet look greater, the king and tyrant of its -kind, than on these occasions. It swings down among them with a -sound that may be heard loud and distinct above the universal hum, -and settles on the flowers, but capriciously, staying {132} but a -moment or two in one place, then moving to another, the meaner -insects all expeditiously making room for it. And after tasting a -few flowers here and there it takes its departure. These large-sized -October hornets are all females, wanderers from ruined homes, in -search of sheltered places where, foodless and companionless, and in -a semi-torpid condition, each may live through the four dreary months -to come. In March the winter of their discontent will be over, and -they will come forth with the primrose and sweet violet to be -founders and mothers of new colonies--the brave and splendid hornets -of another year; builders, fighters, and foragers in the green -oak-woods; a strenuous, hungry and thirsty people, honey-drinkers, -and devourers of the flesh of naked white grubs, and caterpillars, -black and brown and green and gold, and barred and quaintly-coloured -swift aerial flies. - - - - -{133} - -CHAPTER VII - -Great and greatest among insects--Our feeling for insect -music--Crickets and grasshoppers--_Cicada anglica_--_Locusta -viridissima_--Character of its music--Colony of green -grasshoppers--Harewood Forest--Purple emperor--Grasshoppers' musical -contests--The naturalist mocked--Female -_viridissima_--Over-elaboration in the male--Habits of female--Wooing -of the male by the female. - - -I had thought to include all or most of the greatest of the insects -known in these parts in the last chapter, but the hornet, and the -vision it called up of that last revel in the late-blossoming ivy on -the eve of winter and cold death, seemed to bring that part of the -book to an end. The hornet was the greatest in the sense that a -strong man and conqueror is the greatest among ourselves, as the lion -or wolf among mammals, and that feathered thunderbolt and scourge, -the peregrine falcon, among birds. But there are great and greatest -in other senses; and just as there are singers, big and little, as -well as warriors among the "insect tribes of human kind," so there -are among these smaller men of the mandibulate division of the class -Insecta. And their singers, when not too loud and persistent, as -they are apt to be in warmer lands than ours, are among the most -agreeable of the inhabitants of the earth. They are less to us than -to the people of the southern {134} countries of Europe--infinitely -less than they were to some of the civilised nations of antiquity, -and than they are to the Japanese of to-day. This is, I suppose, on -account of their rarity with us, for our best singers are certainly -somewhat rare or else exceedingly local. The field-cricket, which -must be passed over in this chapter to be described later on, is an -instance in point. The universal house-cricket is known to, and in -some degree loved by, all or most persons; it is the cricket on the -hearth, that warm, bright, social spot when the world outside is dark -and cheerless; the lively, companionable sound endears itself to the -child, and later in life is dear because of its associations. The -field-grasshopper, too, is familiar to everyone in the summer -pastures; but the best of our insect musicians, the great green -grasshopper, appears to be almost unknown to the people. Here, for -instance, where I am writing, there is one on the table which -stridulates each afternoon, and in the evening when the lamp is -lighted. The sustained bright shrilling penetrates to all parts of -the house, and in the tap-room of the inn, two rooms away, the -villagers, coming in for their evening beer and conversation, are -startled at the unfamiliar, sharp, silvery sound, and ask if it is a -bird. - -[Sidenote: Insect music] - -Probably it is owing to this rarity of our best insect singers, and -partly, too, perhaps to the disagreeable effect on our ears of the -loud cicadas heard during our southern travels, that an idea is -produced in us of something exotic, or even fantastic, in a taste for -insect music. We wonder at the ancient {135} Greeks and the modern -Japanese. But it should be borne in mind that the sounds had and -have for them an expression they cannot have for us--the expression -which comes of association. - -If the insects named as our best are rare and local, or at all events -not common, what shall we say of our cicada? Can we call him a -singer at all? or if he be not silent, as some think, will he ever be -more to us than a figure and descriptive passage in a book--a mere -cicada of the mind? He is the most local, or has the most limited -range, of all, being seldom found out of the New Forest district. He -was discovered there about seventy years ago, and Curtis, who gave -him the proud name of _Cicada anglica_, expressed the opinion that he -had no song. And many others have thought so too, because they have -been unable to hear him. Others, from Kirby and Spence to our time, -have been of a contrary opinion. So the matter stands. A. H. -Swinton, in his work on _Insect Variety and Propagation_, 1885, -relates that he tried in vain to hear _Cicada anglica_ before going -to France and Italy to make a study of the cicada music; and he -writes: - - - In northern England their woodland melody has not yet fallen on - the ear of the entomologist, but it must not therefore be - inferred that these musicians are wholly absent, for among the - rich and bounteous southern fauna of Hampshire and Surrey we - still retain one outlying waif of the cigales ... _Cicada - anglica_, seemingly the _montana_ of Scopoli, if not _Hamatodes - in proprid persona_. The male, usually beaten in June from - blossoming hawthorn in the New Forest, is provided with - instruments of music, and the female, more terrestrial, is often - observed wandering with a whit-ring sound among bracken wastes, - where she is thought to deposit her ova. - - -{136} - -It struck me some time ago that some of the disappointed -entomologists may have heard the sound they were listening for -without knowing it. In seeking for an object--some rare little -flower, let us say, or a chipped flint, or a mushroom--we set out -with an image of it in the mind, and unless the object sought for -corresponds to its mental prototype, we in many cases fail to -recognise it, and pass on. And it is the same with sounds. The -listeners perhaps heard a sound so unlike their idea, or image, of a -cicada's song, or so like the sound of some other quite different -insect, that they paid no attention to it, and so missed what they -sought for. At all events, I can say that unless we have some -orthopterous insect, of a species unknown to me, which sings in -trees, then our cicada does sing, and I have heard it. The sound -which I heard, and which was new to me, came from the upper foliage -of a large thorn-tree in the New Forest, but unfortunately it ceased -on my approach, and I failed to find the singer. The entomologist -may say that the question remains as it was, but my experience may -encourage him to try again. Had I not been expecting to hear an -insect singing high up in the trees, I should have said at once that -this was a grasshopper's music, though unlike that of any of the -species I am accustomed to hear. It was a sustained sound, like that -of the great green grasshopper, but not of that excessively bright, -subtle, penetrative quality: it was a lower sound, not shrill, and -distinctly slower--in other words, the beats or drops of sound which -compose {137} the grasshopper's song, and run in a stream, were more -distinct and separate, giving it a trilling rather than a reeling -character. Had we, in England, possessed a stridulating mantis, -which is capable of a slower, softer sound than any grasshopper, I -should have concluded that I was listening to one; but there was not, -in this New Forest music, the slightest resemblance to the cicada -sounds I had heard in former years. The cicadas may be a "merry -people," and they certainly had the prettiest things said of them by -the poets of Greece, but I do not like their brain-piercing, -everlasting whirr; this sound of the English cicada, assuming that I -heard that insect, was distinctly pleasing. - -[Sidenote: Locusta viridissima] - -But more than cicada, or field-cricket, or any other insect musician -in the land, is our great green grasshopper, or leaf-cricket, -_Locusta viridissima_. I have been accustomed to hear him in July -and August, in hedges, gardens, and potato patches at different -points along the south coast and at some inland spots, always in the -evening. It is easy, even after dark, to find him by following up -the sound, when he may be seen moving excitedly about on the topmost -sprays or leaves, pausing at intervals to stridulate, and -occasionally taking short leaps from spray to spray. He belongs to a -family widely distributed on the earth, and in La Plata I was -familiar with two species which in form and colour--a uniform vivid -green--were just like our _viridissima_, but differed in size, one -being smaller and the other twice as large. The smaller species sang -by day, all {138} day long, among water-plants growing in the water; -the large species stridulated only by night, chiefly in the maize -fields, and was almost as loud and harsh as the cicadas of the same -region. I distinctly remember the sounds emitted by these two -species, and by several other grasshoppers and leaf-crickets, but -none of their sounds came very near in character to that of -_viridissima_. This is a curious, and to my sense a very beautiful -sound; and when a writer describes it as "harsh," which we not -unfrequently find, I must conclude either that one of us hears -wrongly, or not as the world hears, or that, owing to poverty, he is -unable to give a fit expression. It is a sustained sound, a current -of brightest, finest, bell-like strokes or beats, lasting from three -or four to ten or fifteen seconds, to be renewed again and again -after short intervals; but when the musician is greatly excited, the -pauses last only for a moment--about half a second, and the strain -may go on for ten minutes or longer before a break of any length. -But the quality is the chief thing; and here we find individual -differences, and that some have a lower, weaker note, in which may be -detected a buzz, or sibilation, as in the field-grasshopper; but, as -a rule, it is of a shrillness and musicalness which is without -parallel. The squealings of bats, shrews, and young mice are -excessively sharp, and are aptly described as "needles of sound," but -they are not musical. The only bird I know which has a note -comparable to the _viridissima_ is the lesser whitethroat--the -excessively sharp, bright sound emitted both as an anger-note and -{139} in that low and better song described in a former chapter. It -is this musical sharpness which pleases in the insect, and makes it -so unlike all other sounds in a world so full of sound. Its -incisiveness produces a curious effect: sitting still and listening -for some time at a spot where several insects are stridulating, -certain nerves throb with the sound until it seems that it is in the -brain, and is like that disagreeable condition called "ringing in the -ears" made pleasant. Almost too fine and sharp to be described as -metallic, perhaps it comes nearer to the familiar sound described by -Henley: - - Of ice and glass the tinkle, - Pellucid, crystal-shrill. - -Crystal beads dropped in a stream down a crystal stair would produce -a sound somewhat like the insect's song, but duller. We may, indeed, -say that this grasshopper's sounding instrument is glass; it is a -shining talc-like disc, which may be seen with the unaided sight by -raising the elytra. - -Some time ago, in glancing through some copies of Newman's monthly -_Entomologist_, 1836, I came upon an account of a numerous colony of -the great green grasshopper, which the writer found by chance at a -spot on the Cornish coast. The effect produced by the stridulating -of a large number of these insects was very curious. I envied the -old insect-hunter his experience. A colony of _viridissima_--what a -happiness it would be to discover such a thing! And now, late in the -summer of 1902, I have found one, and though a very thinly populated -one compared to his, {140} it has given me a long-coveted opportunity -of watching and listening to the little green people to my heart's -content. - -[Sidenote: Good-for-nothing grass] - -The happy spot was in Harewood Forest, a dense oak-wood covering an -area of about two thousand acres, a few miles from Andover. I had -haunted it for some days, finding little wild life to interest me -except the jays, which seemed to be the principal inhabitants. In -the middle of this forest or wood, among the oak trees there stands a -tall handsome granite cross about thirty feet high, placed to mark -the exact spot, known as "Deadman's Plack," where over nine centuries -ago King Edgar, with his own hand, slew his friend and favourite, -Earl Athelwold. The account which history gives of this pious -monarch, called the Peaceable, despite his volcanic disposition where -women were concerned, especially his affair with Elfrida, who was -also pious and volcanic as well as beautiful, reads in these dull, -proper times like a tale from another hotter, fiercer world. It is -not strange that many persons find their way through the thick forest -by the narrow track to this place or "Plack"; and there too I went on -several days, and sat by the hour and meditated. It had struck me as -a suitable spot to watch for the purple emperor; but I saw him not, -and once only I caught sight of his bride to be--a big black-looking -butterfly which rose from the top of an oak, took a short flight, and -returned to settle once more on the highest leaves in the same place. -This vain hunt for the purple king of the butterflies--to see him, -not to "take"--led {141} to the discovery of the green minstrels. -Near the cross, or "monument," as it is called, there is an open -place occupying a part of the top and a slope of a down, as pretty a -bit of wild heath as may be found in the county. Stony and barren in -places, it is in other parts clothed in ling, purple with bloom at -this season, with a few pretty little birches and clumps of tangled -thorn and bramble scattered about. But the feature which gives a -peculiar charm to the spot is the false brome grass which flourishes -on the slope, growing in large patches, and on the borders of these -mixing its vivid light-green tussocks with the purple-flowered heath. -It is the species called (in books) heath false brome grass, but as -lips of man refuse to pronounce these four ponderous monosyllables, -the invention of some dreary botanist, that follow and jolt against -each other, I will venture to rename it good-for-nothing grass. For -it is useless to the farmer, since no domestic herbivore will touch -it; its sole justification is its exceeding beauty. It grows as high -as a man's knees, or higher, and even in the driest, hottest season -keeps its wonderfully vivid fresh green, as near a brilliant colour -as any green leaf can be; and the stalks and graceful spikes after -the flowering time are pale yellow-brown, and have a golden lustre in -the bright August and September sunlight. Could our poetical -_viridissima_ have a more suitable home! And here, coming out from -the thick oaks and sauntering about the heath I caught the sound of -his delicate shrilling, and to my delight found myself in the midst -of a colony. They {142} were not abundant, and one could not -experience the sensation produced by many stridulating at a time: -they were thinly scattered over two or three acres of ground, but at -some points I could hear several of them shrilling together at -different distances, and it was not difficult to keep two or three in -sight at one time. - -Hitherto I had known this insect as an evening musician, beginning as -a rule after sunset and continuing till about eleven o'clock. Here -he made his music only during the daylight hours, from about ten or -eleven in the morning until five or six o'clock in the afternoon, -becoming silent at noon when it was hot. But it was late in the -season when I found him, on 26th August, and after much rain the -weather had become exceptionally cool for the time of year. - -[Illustration: RIVAL GREAT GREEN GRASSHOPPERS] - -When stridulating it appeared to be the ambition of every male -grasshopper to get up as high as he could climb on the stiff blades -and thin stalks of the grass; and there, very conspicuous in his -uniform green colour which in a strong sunlight looked like the green -of verdigris, his translucent overwings glistening like a -dragon-fly's wings, he would shrill and make the grass to which he -was clinging tremble to his rapidly vibrating body. Then he would -listen to the shrill response of some other singer not far off, and -then sing and listen again, and yet again; then all at once in a -determined manner he would set out to find his rival, travelling high -up through the grass, climbing stems and blades until they bent -enough for him to grasp others and push on, {144} reminding one of a -squirrel progressing through the thin highest branches of a hazel -copse. After covering the distance in this manner, with a few short -pauses by the way to shrill back an answering challenge, he would -find a suitable place near to the other, still in his place high up -in the grass; and then the two, a foot or so, sometimes three or four -inches, apart, would begin a regular duel in sound at short range. -Each takes his turn, and when one sings the other raises one of his -forelegs to listen; one may say that in lifting a leg he "cocks an -ear." The attitude of the insects is admirably given in the -accompanying drawing from life. This contest usually ends in a real -fight: one advances, and when at a distance of five or six inches -makes a leap at his adversary, and the other, prepared for what is -coming and in position, leaps too at the same time, so that they meet -midway, and strike each other with their long spiny hind legs. It is -done so quickly that the movements cannot be followed by the eye, but -that they do hit hard is plain, as in many cases one is knocked down -or flung to some distance away. Thus ends the round; the beaten one -rushes off as quickly as he can, as if hurt, but soon pulls up, and -lowering his head, begins defiantly stridulating as before. The -other follows him up, shrills at and attacks him again; and you may -see a dozen or twenty such encounters between the same two in the -course of half an hour. Occasionally when the blow is struck they -grasp each other and fall together; and it is hardly to be doubted -that they not only kick, like French wrestlers and {145} bald-headed -coots, but also make wicked use of their powerful black teeth. Some -of the fighters I examined had lost a portion of one of the -forelegs--one had lost portions of two--and these had evidently been -bitten off. Perhaps they inflict even worse injuries. Hearing two -shrilling against each other at a spot where there was a large clump -of heath between them, I dropped down close by to listen and watch, -when I discovered a third grasshopper sitting mid-way between the -others in the centre of the heath-bush. This one appeared more -excited than the others, keeping his wings violently agitated almost -without a pause, and yet not the faintest sound proceeded from him. -It proved on examination that one of his stiff overwings had been -bitten or torn off at the base, so that he had but half of his -sounding apparatus left, and no music could his most passionate -efforts ever draw from it, and, silent, he was no more in the world -of green grasshoppers than a bird with a broken wing in the world of -birds. - -[Sidenote: Singing-contests] - -For it cannot be doubted that his own music is the greatest, the one -all-absorbing motive and passion of his little soul. This may seem -to be saying too much--to attribute something of human feelings to a -creature so immeasurably far removed from us. Fantastic in shape, -even among beings invertebrate and unhuman, one that indeed sees with -opal eyes set in his green goat-like mask, but who hears with his -forelegs, breathes through spiracles set in his sides, whipping the -air for other sense-impressions and unimaginable sorts of knowledge -with his excessively {146} long limber horns, or antennę, just as a -dry-fly fisher whips the crystal stream for speckled trout; and, -finally, who wears his musical apparatus (his vocal organs) like an -electric shield or plaster on the small of his back. Nevertheless it -is impossible to watch their actions without regarding them as -creatures of like passions with ourselves. The resemblance is most -striking when we think not of what we, hard Saxons, are in this cold -north, but of the more fiery, music-loving races in warmer countries. -I remember in my early years, before the advent of "Progress" in -those outlying realms, that the ancient singing contests still -flourished among the gauchos of La Plata. They were all lovers of -their own peculiar kind of music, singing endless _decimas_ and -_coplas_ in high-pitched nasal tones to the strum-strumming of a -guitar; and when any singer of a livelier mind than his fellows had -the faculty of improvising, his fame went forth, and the others of -his quality were filled with emulation, and journeyed long distances -over the lonely plains to meet and sing against him. How curiously -is this like our island grasshoppers, who have come to us unchanged -from the past, and are neither Saxons nor Celts, but true, original, -ancient Britons--the little grass-green people with passionate souls! -You can almost hear him say--this little green minstrel you have been -watching when his shrill note has brought back as shrill an -answer--as he resolutely sets out over the tall, bending grasses in -the direction of the sound, "I'll teach him to sing!" - -{147} - -[Sidenote: A human parallel] - -So interested was I in watching them, so delighted to be in this -society, whose members, for all their shape, no longer moved about -in, to me, unimaginable worlds, that I went day after day and spent -long hours with them. I could best watch their battles by getting -down on my knees in the good-for-nothing ("heath false brome") grass, -so as to bring my eyes within two or three feet of them. My -attitude, kneeling with bowed head by the half-hour at a stretch, one -day attracted the attention of some persons who had come in a -carriage to picnic under the trees at the foot of the slope, four or -five hundred yards away. There were from time to time little -explosions of laughter, and at last a young lady of twelve or -fourteen cried, or piped out, in a clear, far-reaching voice, "Holy -man!" She was an impudent monkey. - -So far not a word has been said of the female, simply because, as it -seemed to me, there was, so far, nothing to say. In most insects the -odour excites and draws the males, often from long distances, as we -see in the moths; they fly to, and find, and see her, and woo, and -chase, and fight with each other for possession of her; and when -there are beautiful or fantastic movements, sometimes accompanied -with sounds, corresponding to the antics of birds--I have observed -them in species of Asilidę and other insects--they are directly -caused by the presence of the female. But with _viridissima_ it -appears not to be so, since they do not seek the female, nor will -they notice her when she comes in {148} their way, but they are -wholly absorbed in their own music, and in trying to outsing the -others, or, failing in this, to kick and bite them into silence. - -Now, seeing this strange condition of things among these -insects--seeing it day after day for weeks--the conclusion forced -itself upon my mind that we have here one of those strange cases -among the lower creatures which are not uncommon in human life--the -case of a faculty, a means to an end, being developed and refined to -an excessive degree, and the reflex effect of this too great -refinement on the species, or race. Comparing it then to certain -human matters--to Art, let us say--we see that that which was but a -means has become an end, and is pursued for its own sake. - -Such a conclusion may seem absurd, and perhaps it is, since we cannot -know what "nimble emanations" and vibrations, which touch not our -coarser natures, there may be to link these diverse and seemingly -ill-fitting actions into one perfect chain. It may be said, for -instance, that in this species the incessant stridulating of the male -has an action similar to that of the sun's light and heat on plant -life, causing the flower to blow and its sexual organs to ripen. But -we see, too, that Nature does often overshoot her mark. We have seen -it, I think, in the over-refinement of the passion and faculty of -fear in certain species, in reference to cases of fascination, and we -see it in the over-protected and the over-specialised; but we are so -imbued with the idea that the right mean has always been hit upon and -{149} adhered to, that it is only in view of the most flagrant cases -to the contrary that we are ever startled out of that delusion. The -miserable case, for example, of the _Polyergus rufescens_, the -slave-making ant, who, from being too much waited upon, has so -entirely lost the power of waiting upon himself that he will perish -of hunger amidst plenty if his slaves be not there to pick up and put -the food into his mouth. These extreme cases are not the only ones; -for every one of such a character there are hundreds of cases. -"Degeneration," as Ray Lankester has aptly said, "goes hand in hand -with elaboration"; and I would add that in numberless cases -over-elaboration is the cause of degeneration. - -[Sidenote: The female viridissima] - -The female is the grander insect, being nearly a third larger than -the male, of a fuller figure, and adorned with a long, -broadsword-shaped ovipositor, which projects beyond her wings like a -tail. She has rather a grand air too, and is both silent and -inactive. Hers is a life of listening and waiting; and the waiting -is long--days and weeks go by, and the males stridulate, and fight, -and pay no attention to her. But how patient she can be may be seen -in the case of one which I took from her heath and placed on a -well-berried branch of wild guelder on my table. There she was -contented to rest, usually on one of the topmost clusters, for many -days, almost always with the window open at the side of her branch, -so that she could easily have made her escape. The wind blew in upon -her, and outside the world was green and lit with sunshine. One -could {150} almost fancy that she was conscious of her fine -appearance in her pale vivid green colour, touched in certain lights -with glaucous blue, on her throne of clustered carbuncles. At -intervals of an hour or two she would move about a little, and find -some other perch; only the waving of her long, fine antennę appeared -to show that she was alive to much that was going on about her--in -her world. The one thing that excited her was the stridulating of -one of the males confined in a glass vessel on the same table. She -would then travel over her branch to get as near as possible to the -musician, and would remain motionless, even to the nervous antennę, -and apparently absorbed in the sound for as long as it lasted. At -first she ate a few of the crimson berries on her branch, and also -took a little parsley and shepherd's purse, but later on she declined -all green stuff, and fed on jam, honey, cooked sultanas, and -bread-and-butter pudding, which she liked best. Water and -ginger-beer for drink. This most placid and dignified lady--we had -got into calling her "Lady Greensleeves," and "Queen," and sometimes -"The Cow"--was restored, on 12th September, in good health, after -sixteen days, to her native heath, and disappeared from sight in the -long grass, quietly making her way to some spot where she could -settle down comfortably to listen to the music. - -[Sidenote: Habits of female] - -All the females I found and watched behaved as my captive had done. -They were no more active, and preferred to be at a good height above -the {151} ground--eighteen inches or two feet--when quietly -listening. One day I watched one perched on the topmost spray of a -heath-bush in her listening attitude: clouds came over the sun, and -the wind grew colder and stronger, and the singers ceased singing. -And at last, finding that the silence continued, and doubtless -feeling uncomfortable on that spray where the wind blew on and swayed -her about, she slowly climbed down and settled herself in a -horizontal position on the sheltered side of the plant; and when the -sun broke out and shone on her she tipped over on one side, stretched -her hind legs out, and rested motionless in that position, exactly -like a fowl lying in her dusting-place luxuriating in the heat. - -But at last, despite that air of repose which is her chief -characteristic, she is so wrought upon by that perpetual, shrill, -irresistible music that she can no longer endure to sit still, but is -drawn to it. She goes to her charmers, one may say, to remind them -by her presence that the minstrelsy in which they are so absorbed is -not itself an end but a means. Brisk or lively she cannot be, but it -is plain that when she follows up or settles herself down near her -forgetful knights, she is greatly excited, and waiting to be taken in -marriage. That she distinguishes one singer above others, or -exercises "selection" in the Darwinian sense, seems unlikely: it -strikes one, on the contrary, that having so long suffered neglect -she is only too willing to be claimed by any one of them. And this -is just what they decline to {152} do--for some time, at any rate. -Again and again I have observed when the female had followed and -placed herself close to a couple of these rival musicians, that they -took not the least notice of her; and that when, in the course of the -alarums and excursions, one of them found himself close to her, the -sight of her appeared to disconcert him, and he made all haste to get -away from her. It looked to human eyes as if her large portly figure -had not corresponded to his ideal, and had even moved him to -repugnance. But the Ann of Cleves in a green gown is an exceedingly -patient person, and very persistent, and though often denied, she -will not be denied, or take No for an answer. But it is altogether a -curious business, for not only is the wooing process reversed, as -many think it is in the cuckoo, but it lasts an unconscionable time -in a creature whose life, in the perfect stage, is limited to a -season. But the female _viridissima_ has not the power and swiftness -of that feathered lady who boldly pursues her singer (in love with -nothing but his own voice), and compels him to take her. - - - - -{153} - -CHAPTER VIII - -Hampshire, north and south--A spot abounding in life--Lyndhurst--A -white spider--Wooing spider's antics--A New Forest little boy--Blonde -gipsies--The boy and the spider--A distant world of spiders--Selborne -and its visitors--Selborne revisited--An owl at Alton--A wagtail at -the Wakes--The cockerel and the martin--Heat at Selborne--House -crickets--Gilbert White on crickets--A colony of -field-crickets--Water plants--Musk mallow--Cirl buntings at -Selborne--Evening gatherings of swifts at -Selborne--Locustidę--_Thamnotrizon cinereus_--English names -wanted--Black grasshopper's habits and disposition--Its abundance at -Selborne. - - -In the last chapter I got away--succeeded in breaking away, would -perhaps be a better expression--from that favourite hunting-ground of -mine farther south; and the reader would perhaps care to know why a -book descriptive of days in Hampshire should be so much taken up with -days in one small corner of the county. Hampshire is not a very -large county compared with some others: I have traversed it in this -and in that direction often enough to be pretty familiar with a great -deal of it, from the walled-round cornfield which was once Roman -Calleva to the Solent; and from the beautiful wild Rother on the -Sussex border to the Avon in the west. There is much to see and know -within these limits: for all those whose proper study is man, his -history and his works; and for the archęologist and for the artist -and seekers after the picturesque, {154} there is much--nay, there is -more to attract in the northern than in the southern half of the -county. I, not of them, go south, and by preference to one spot, -because my chief interest and delight is in life--life in all its -forms, from man who "walks erect and smiling looks on heaven" to the -minutest organic atoms--the invisible life. It here comes into my -mind that the very smell of the earth, in which we all delight, the -smell which fills the air after rain in summer, and is strong when we -turn up a spadeful of fresh mould, which the rustic calls "good," -believing, perhaps rightly, that we must smell it every day to be -well and live long, is after all an odour given off by a living -thing--_Cladothrix odorifera_. Too small for human eyes, which see -only objects proportioned to their bigness, so minute, indeed, that -millions may inhabit a clod no larger than one's watch, yet they are -able to find a passage to us through the other subtler sense; and -from the beginning of our earthly journey even to its end we walk -with this odour in our nostrils, and love it, and will perhaps take -with us a sweet memory of it into the after-life. - -Life being more than all else to me, I am drawn to the spot where it -exists in greatest abundance and variety. - -I remember feeling this passion very strongly one day during this -summer of 1902 after looking at a spider. It was an interesting -spider, and I found it within a couple of miles of Lyndhurst, of all -places; a spot so disagreeable to me that I avoid it, and {155} look -for nothing and wish for nothing to detain me in its vicinity. - -[Sidenote: Lyndhurst] - -Lyndhurst is objectionable to me not only because it is a vulgar -suburb, a transcript of Chiswick or Plumstead in the New Forest where -it is in a wrong atmosphere, but also because it is the spot on which -London vomits out its annual crowd of collectors, who fill its -numerous and ever-increasing brand-new red-brick lodging-houses, and -who swarm through all the adjacent woods and heaths, men, women, and -children (hateful little prigs!) with their vasculums, beer and -treacle pots, green and blue butterfly nets, killing bottles, and all -the detestable paraphernalia of what they would probably call "Nature -Study." - -It happened that one day, a mile or two from Lyndhurst, going along -the road I caught sight of a pretty bit of heath through an opening -in the wood, and turning into it I looked out a spot to rest in, and -was just about to cast myself down when I noticed a small white -spider, disturbed by my step, drop from a cluster of bell-heath -flowers to the ground. I stood still, and presently the spider, -recovered from its alarm, drew itself up again by an invisible thread -and settled down on the bright-coloured blossoms. Seating myself -close by, I began to watch the strangely shaped and coloured little -creature. It was a _Thomisus_--a genus of spiders distinguished by -the extraordinary length of the two pairs of forelegs. The one -before me, _Thomisus citreus_, is also singular on account of its -colour--pale citron or white--and its habit of sitting on flowers. -{156} This habit and the colour, we may see, are related. The -_citreus_ is not a weaver of snares, but hunts for its prey, or -rather lies in wait to capture any insect that comes to the flower on -which it sits. On white, yellow, and indeed on most pale-coloured -flowers, it almost becomes invisible. On the brilliant red -bell-heath blossom it showed plainly enough, but even here it did not -look nearly so conspicuous as when on a green leaf. - -[Sidenote: Wooing spider's antics] - -I had observed this white spider before, but had always seen it -sitting motionless in its flower; this one was curiously restless, -and very soon after I had settled myself down by its side it began to -throw itself into a variety of strange attitudes. The four long -forelegs would go up all at once and stand out like rays from the -round, white body, and by-and-by they would drop and hang down like -two long strings from the flower. Pretty soon I discovered the cause -of these actions in the presence of a second spider, less than half -the size of the first, moving about close by. His smallness and -hideling habits had prevented me from seeing him sooner. This small, -active, white creature was the male, and though moving constantly -about in the heath at a distance of half a foot from her, it was -plain that they could see each other and also understand each other -very well. As he moved round her, passing by means of the threads he -kept throwing out from spray to spray, she moved round on her flower -to keep him in sight; but though fascinated and drawn to her, he -still dreaded, and was pulled by his fear and his desire in opposite -ways. {157} The excitement of both would increase whenever he came a -little nearer, and their attitudes were then sometimes very curious, -the most singular being one of the male when he would raise his body -vertically in the air and stand on his two pairs of forelegs. When -very near, they would extend the long forelegs and touch one another; -but always at this point when they were closest and the excitement -greatest a panic would seize him, and he would make haste to get to a -safer distance. On two such occasions she, as if afraid to lose him -altogether, quitted her beloved flower and moved after him, and after -wandering about for some time to no purpose, found another -flower-cluster to settle on. And so the queer wooing went on, and -seemed no nearer to a conclusion, when, to my surprise, I found that -I had been sitting and lying there, with eyes close to the female -spider, for an hour and a half. Once only, feeling a little bored, I -gently stroked her on the back, which appeared to please her as much -as if she had been a pig and I had scratched her back with my -walking-stick. But no sooner had the soothing effect passed off than -she began again watching the movements of that fantastic little lover -of hers, who loved her for her beautiful white body, but feared her -on account of those poison fangs which he could probably see every -time she smiled to encourage him. At the end of my long watch the -conclusion of the whole complex business seemed farther off than -ever: fear had got the mastery, and the male had put so great a -distance between them, and moved now {158} so languidly, that it -seemed useless to remain any longer. - -[Sidenote: A little forest boy] - -I had not been watching alone all this time: when I had been about -half an hour on the spot I had a visitor, a small miserable-looking -New Forest boy; he came walking towards me with a little crooked -stick in his hand, and asked me in a low, husky voice if I had seen a -pony in that part of the Forest. I told him sharply not to come too -near as his steps would disturb a spider I was watching. It did not -seem to surprise him that I was there by myself watching a spider, -but creeping up he subsided gently on the heath by my side and began -watching with me. At intervals when there was a lull in the -excitement of the spiders I could spare time for a glance at my poor -little companion. He was probably eleven or twelve years old, but -his stature was that of a boy of eight--a small, stunted creature, -meanly dressed, with light-coloured lustreless hair, pale-blue eyes, -and a weary sad expression on his pale face. Yet he called himself a -gipsy! But the south of England gipsies are a mixed and degenerate -lot. They are now so incessantly harried by the authorities that the -best of them settle down in the villages, while those who keep to the -old ways and vagrant open-air life are joined by tramps and wastrels -of every shade of colour. This little fellow had little or no Romany -blood in his watery veins. - -He told me that his people were camping not far off, and that the -party consisted of his parents with six (the half-dozen youngest) of -their thirteen children. {159} They had a pony and trap; but the -pony had got away during the night, and the father and two or three -of the children were out looking for it in different directions. We -talked a little at intervals, and I found him curiously ignorant -concerning the wild life of the Forest. He assured me that he had -never seen the cuckoo, but he had heard of its singular habits, and -was anxious to know how big a bird it was, also its colour. In some -trees near us a wood-wren was uttering its sorrowful little wailing -note of anxiety, and when I asked him what bird it was, he answered -"a sparrer." Nevertheless he seemed to feel a dim sort of interest -in the spiders we were watching, and at length our intermittent -conversation ceased altogether. When at last, after a long silence, -I spoke, he did not answer, and glancing round I found that he had -gone to sleep. Lying there with eyes closed, his pale face on the -bright green turf, he looked almost corpse-like. Even his lips were -colourless. Getting up, I placed a penny piece on the turf beside -his little crooked stick, so that on awaking he should have a gleam -of happiness in his poor little soul, and went softly away. But he -was sleeping very soundly, for when after going a couple of hundred -yards I looked back he was still lying motionless on the same spot. - -But when I looked back, and when, regaining the road, I went on my -way, and indeed for long hours after, I saw the boy vaguely, almost -like a boy of mist, and was hardly able to recall his features, so -faintly had he impressed me; while the spider on {160} her flower, -and the small male that wooed and won her many times yet never -ventured to take her, were stamped so vividly on my brain, that even -if I had wished it I could not have got rid of that persistent image. -It made me miserable to think that I had left, thousands of miles -away, a world of spiders exceeding in size, variety of shape and -beauty and richness of colouring those I found here--surpassing them, -too, in the marvellousness of their habits and that ferocity of -disposition which is without a parallel in nature. I wished I could -drop this burden of years so as to go back to them, to spend half a -lifetime in finding out some of their fascinating secrets. Finally, -I envied those who in future years will grow up in that green -continent, with this passion in their hearts, and have the happiness -which I had missed. - -I, of course, knew that it was but the too vivid and persistent image -of that particular creature on which my attention had been fixed -which made me regard spiders generally as the most interesting beings -in nature--the proper study of mankind, in fact. But it is always -so; any new aspect, form, or manifestation of the principle of life, -at the moment it comes before the vision and the mind, is, to one who -is not a specialist, attractive beyond all others. - -But, after all is said and done, I have as a fact spent many of my -Hampshire days at a distance from the spots I love best, and my -subject in this chapter will be of my sojourn in that eastern corner -of the county, in the village and parish which all {161} naturalists -love, and which many of them know so well. - - -[Sidenote: Visitors to Selborne] - -It is told in the books that some seventy or eighty years ago an -adventurous naturalist journeyed down from London by rough ways to -the remote village of Selborne, to see it with his own eyes and -describe its condition to the world. The way is not long nor rough -in these times, and on every summer day, almost at every hour of the -day, strangers from all parts of the country, with not a few from -foreign lands, may be seen in the old village street. Of these -visitors that come like shadows, so depart, nine in every ten, or -possibly nineteen in every twenty, have no real interest in Gilbert -White and his work and the village he lived in, but are members of -that innumerable tribe of gadders about the land who religiously -visit every spot which they are told should be seen. - -One morning, while staying at the village, in July 1901, I went at -six o'clock for a stroll on the common, and, on going up to the -Hanger, noticed a couple of bicycles lying at the foot of the hill; -then, half-way up I found the cyclists--two young ladies--resting on -the turf by the side of the Zigzag. They were conversing together as -I went by, and one having asked some question which I did not hear, -the other replied, "Oh no! he lived a very long time ago, and wrote a -history of Selborne. About birds and that." To which the other -returned, "Oh!" and then they talked of something else. - -{162} - -These ladies had probably got up at four o'clock that morning, and -ridden several miles to visit the village and go up the Hanger before -breakfast. Later in the day they would be at other places where -other Hampshire celebrities, big and little, had been born, or had -lived or died--Wootton St. Lawrence, Chawton, Steventon, Alresford, -Basing, Otterbourne, Buriton, Boldre, and a dozen more; and one, the -informed, would say to her uninformed companion, "Oh dear, no; he, or -she, lived a long, long time ago, somewhere about the eighteenth -century--or perhaps it was the sixteenth--and did something, or wrote -fiction, or history, or philosophy, and that." To which the other -would intelligently answer, "Oh!" and then they would remount their -bicycles, and go on to some other place. - -[Sidenote: Selborne revisited] - -Although a large majority of the visitors are of this description, -there are others of a different kind--the true pilgrims; and these -are mostly naturalists who have been familiar from boyhood with the -famous Letters, who love the memory of Gilbert White, and regard the -spot where he was born, to which he was so deeply attached, where his -ashes lie, as almost a sacred place. It is but natural that some of -these, who are the true and only Selbornians, albeit they may not -call themselves by a name which has been filched from them, should -have given an account of a first visit, their impression of a spot -familiar in description but never realised until seen, and of its -effect on the mind. But no one, so far as I know, has told of a -second or of any subsequent {163} visit. There is a good reason for -this, for though the place is in itself beautiful and never loses its -charm, it is impossible for anyone to recover the feeling experienced -on a first sight. If I, unlike others, write of Selborne revisited, -it is not because there is anything fresh to say of an old, vanished -emotion, a feeling which forms a singular and delightful experience -in the life of many a naturalist, and is thereafter a pleasing memory -but nothing more. - -Selborne is now to me like any other pleasant rural place: in the -village street, in the churchyard, by the Lyth and the Bourne, on the -Hanger and the Common, I feel that I am - - In a green and undiscovered ground; - -the feeling that the naturalist must or should always experience in -all places where nature is, even as Coventry Patmore experienced it -in the presence of women. He had paid more than ordinary attention -to their ways, and knew that there was yet much to learn. - -[Sidenote: An owl at Alton] - -How irrecoverable the first feeling is--a feeling which may be almost -like the sense of an unseen presence, as I have described it in an -account of my first visit to Selborne in the concluding chapter in a -book on _Birds and Man_--was impressed upon me on the occasion of a -second visit two or three years later. There was then no return of -the feeling--no faintest trace of it. The village was like any -other, only more interesting because of several amusing incidents in -bird-life which I by chance {164} witnessed when there. Animals in a -state of nature do not often move us to mirth, but on this occasion I -was made to laugh several times. At first it was at an owl at Alton. -I arrived there in the evening of a wet, rough day in May 1898, too -late to walk the five miles that remained to my destination. After -securing a room at the hotel, I hurried out to look at the fine old -church, which Gilbert White admired in his day; but it was growing -dark, so that there was nothing for me but to stand in the wind and -rain in the wet churchyard, and get a general idea of the outline of -the building, with its handsome, shingled spire standing tall against -the wild, gloomy sky. By-and-by a vague figure appeared out of the -clouds, travelling against the wind towards the spire, and looking -more like a ragged piece of newspaper whirled about the heavens than -any living thing. It was a white owl, and after watching him for -some time I came to the conclusion that he was trying to get to the -vane on the spire. A very idle ambition it seemed, for although he -succeeded again and again in getting to within a few yards of the -point aimed at, he was on each occasion struck by a fresh violent -gust and driven back to a great distance, often quite out of sight in -the gloom. But presently he would reappear, still striving to reach -the vane. A crazy bird! but I could not help admiring his pluck, and -greatly wondered what his secret motive in aiming at that windy perch -could be. And at last, after so many defeats, he succeeded in -grasping the metal cross-bar with his {165} crooked talons. The -wind, with all its fury, could not tear him from it, and after a -little flapping he was able to pull himself up; then, bending down, -he deliberately wiped his beak on the bar and flew away! This, then, -had been his powerful, mysterious motive--just to wipe his beak, -which he could very well have wiped on any branch or barn-roof or -fence, and saved himself that tremendous labour! - -It was an extreme instance of the tyrannous effect of habit on a wild -animal. Doubtless this bird had been accustomed, after devouring his -first mouse, to fly to the vane, where he could rest for a few -minutes, taking a general view of the place, and wipe his beak at the -same time; and the habit had become so strong that he could not forgo -his visit even on so tempestuous an evening. His beak, if he had -wiped it anywhere but on that lofty cross-bar, would not have seemed -quite clean. - -At Selborne, in the garden at the Wakes, I noticed a pair of pied -wagtails busy nest-building in the ivy on the wall. One of the birds -flew up to the roof of the house, where, I suppose, he caught sight -of a fly in an upper window which looked on to the roof, for all at -once he rose up and dashed against the pane with great force; and as -the glass pane hit back with equal force, he was thrown on to the -tiles under the window. Nothing daunted, he got up and dashed -against the glass a second time, with the same result. The action -was repeated five times, then the poor baffled bird withdrew from the -contest, and, drawing in his head, sat hunched up for two or three -minutes {166} perfectly motionless. The volatile creature would not -have sat there so quietly if he had not hurt himself rather badly. - -[Sidenote: Cockerel and martin] - -One more of the amusing incidents witnessed during my visit must be -told. Several pairs of martins were making their nests under the -eaves of a cottage opposite to the Queen's Arms, where I stayed; and -on going out about seven o'clock in the morning, I stood to watch -some of the birds getting mud at a pool which had been made by the -night's rain in the middle of the street. It happened that some -fowls had come out of the inn yard, and were walking or standing near -the puddle picking up gravel or any small morsel they could find. -Among them was a cockerel, a big, ungainly, yellowish Cochin, in the -hobbledehoy stage of that ugliest and most ungraceful variety. For -some time this bird stood idly by the pool, but by-and-by the -movements of the martins coming and going between the cottage and the -puddle attracted his attention, and he began to watch them with a -strange interest; and then all at once he made a vicious peck at one -occupied in deftly gathering a pellet of clay close to his great, -feathered feet. The martin flitted lightly away, and after a turn or -two, dropped down again at almost the same spot. The fowl had -watched it, and as soon as it came down moved a step or two nearer to -it with deliberation, then made a violent dash and peck at it, and -was no nearer to hitting it than before. The same thing occurred -again and again, the martin growing shyer after each attack; then -other martins {167} came, and he, finding them less cautious than the -first, stalked them in turn and made futile attacks on them. -Convinced at last that it was not possible for him to injure or touch -these elusive little creatures, he determined that they should gather -no mud at that place, and with head up he watched them circling like -great flies around him, dashing savagely at them whenever they came -lower, or paused in their flight, or dropped lightly down on the -margin. It was a curious and amusing spectacle--the big, shapeless, -lumbering bird chasing them round and round the pool in his stupid -spite; they by contrast so beautiful in their shining purple mantle, -snow-white breast, and stockinged feet, their fairy-like aerial -bodies that responded so quickly to every motion of their bright, -lively, little minds. It was like a very heavy policeman "moving on" -a flock of fairies. - -One remembers Ęsop's dog in the manger, and thinks that this and many -of the apologues are really nothing but everyday incidents in animal -life, told just as they happened, with the addition of speech (in -some cases quite unnecessary) put in the mouth of the various actors. -Ęsop's dog did not want to be disturbed in his bed of hay, and was -not such an unredeemed curmudgeon as the Selborne fowl; but this -unlovely temper or feeling--spite and petty tyranny and -persecution--is exceedingly common in the lower animals, from the -higher vertebrates down even to the insects. - -My third visit to Selborne was in July 1901. I {168} went there on -the 12th and stayed till the 23rd. Now July, when the business of -breeding is over or far advanced and all the best songsters are -dropping into silence, and when the foliage is deepening to a uniform -monotonous dark green, is, next to August, the least interesting -month of the year. But at Selborne I was singularly fortunate, -although the season was excessively dry and hot. The heat was indeed -great all over the country, but I doubt if there exists a warmer -village than Selborne, unless it be one in some, to me unknown, -coombe in Cornwall or Devon. Thus on 19th July, when the temperature -rose to ninety degrees in the shade in the City of London, we had it -as high as ninety-four degrees in Selborne. The village lies in a -kind of trough at the foot of a wall-like hill. If it were not for -the moisture and the greenery that surrounds and almost covers it, -hanging, as it were, like a cloud above it, the heat would doubtless -have been even greater. - -[Sidenote: Crickets] - -These conditions, in whatever way they may affect the human -inhabitants, appear to be exceedingly favourable to the -house-crickets. It was impossible for anyone to walk in the village -of an evening without noticing the noise they made. The cottages on -both sides of the street seemed to be alive with them, so that, -walking, one was assailed by their shrilling in both ears. Hearing -them so much sent me in search of their wild cousin of the fields and -of the mole-cricket, but no sound of them could I hear. It was too -late for them to sing. No doubt--as White conjectured--the -artificial conditions which {169} civilised man has made for the -house-cricket have considerably altered its habits. Like the canary -and other finches that thrive in captivity, a uniform indoor climate, -with food easily found, have made it a singer all the year round. I -trust we shall never take to the Japanese custom of caging insects -for the sake of their music; but it is probable that a result of -keeping tamed or domesticated field-crickets would be to set them -singing at all seasons against the cricket on the hearth. A listener -would then be able to judge which of the two "sweet and tiny cousins" -is the better performer. The house-cricket has to my ears a louder, -coarser, a more creaky sound; but we hear him, as a rule, in a room, -singing, as it were, confined in a big box; and I remember the case -of the skylark, and the disagreeable effect of its shrill and harsh -spluttering song when heard from a cage hanging against a wall. The -field-cricket, like the soaring skylark, has the wide expanse of open -air to soften and etherealise the sound. - -Gilbert White lived in an age which had its own little, -firmly-established, conventional ideas about nature, which he, -open-air man though he was, did not escape, or else felt bound to -respect. Thus, the prolonged, wild, beautiful call of the peacock, -the finest sound made by any domesticated creature, was to the -convention of the day "disgustful," and as a disgustful sound he sets -it down accordingly; and when he speaks of the keen pleasure it gave -him to listen to the field-cricket, he writes in a somewhat -apologetic strain: - -{170} - - - Sounds do not always give us pleasure according to their - sweetness and melody, nor do harsh sounds always displease. We - are more apt to be captivated or disgusted with the associations - which they promote than with the notes themselves. Thus the - shrilling of the field-cricket, though sharp and stridulous, yet - marvellously delights some hearers, filling their minds with a - train of summer ideas of everything that is rural, verdurous, and - joyous. - - -The delight I know, but I cannot wholly agree with the explanation. -A couple of months before this visit to Selborne, on 25th May, on -passing some small grass-fields, enclosed in high, untrimmed hedges, -on the border of a pine wood near Hythe, by Southampton Water, I all -at once became conscious of a sound, which indeed had been for some -considerable time in my ears, increasing in volume as I went on until -it forced my attention to it. When I listened, I found myself in a -place where field-crickets were in extraordinary abundance; there -must have been many hundreds within hearing distance, and their -delicate shrilling came from the grass and hedges all round me. It -was as if all the field-crickets in the county had congregated and -were holding a grand musical festival at that spot. A dozen or -twenty house-crickets in a kitchen would have made more noise; this -was not loud, nor could it properly be described as a noise; it was -more like a subtle music without rise or fall or change; or like a -continuous, diffused, silvery-bright, musical hum, which surrounded -one like an atmosphere, and at the same time pervaded and trembled -through one like a vibration. It was certainly very delightful, and -the feeling in this instance was not due to {171} association, but, I -think, to the intrinsic beauty of the sound itself. - -[Sidenote: Wild flowers] - -The Selborne stream, or Bourne, with its meadows and tangled copses -on either side, was my favourite noonday haunt. The volume of water -does not greatly diminish during the summer months, but in many -places the bed of the stream was quite grown over with aquatic -plants, topped with figwort, huge water-agrimony, with its masses of -powdery, flesh-coloured blooms, creamy meadow-sweet, and rose-purple -loosestrife, and willow-herb with its appetising odour of codlins and -cream. The wild musk, or monkey-flower, a Hampshire plant about -which there will be much to say in another chapter, was also common. -At one spot a mass of it grew at the foot of a high bank on the -water's edge; from the top of the bank long branches of briar-rose -trailed down, and the rich, pure yellow mimulus blossoms and -ivory-white roses of the briar were seen together. An even lovelier -effect was produced at another spot by the mingling of the yellow -flowers with the large turquoise-blue water forget-me-nots. - -The most charming of the Selborne wild plants that flower in July is -the musk mallow. It was quite common round the village, and perhaps -the finest plant I saw was in the churchyard, growing luxuriantly by -a humble grave near the little gate that opens to the Lyth and -Bourne. As it is known to few persons, there must almost every day -have been strangers and pilgrims in the churchyard who looked with -admiration on that conspicuous plant, {172} with its deep-cut, -scented geranium-like, beautiful leaves, tender grey-green in colour, -and its profusion of delicate, silky, rose-coloured flowers. Many -would look on it as some rare exotic, and wonder at its being there -by that lowly green mound. But to the residents it was a musk mallow -and nothing more--a weed in the churchyard. - -When one morning I found two men mowing the grass, I called their -attention to this plant and asked them to spare it, telling them that -it was one which the daily visitors to the village would admire above -all the red geraniums and other gardeners' flowers which they would -have to leave untouched. This simple request appeared to put them -out a good deal; they took their hats off and wiped the sweat from -their foreheads, and after gravely pondering the matter for some -time, said they would "see about it" or "bear it in mind" when they -came round to that side. In the afternoon, when the mowing was done, -I returned and found that the musk mallow had not been spared. - -During my stay I was specially interested in two of the common -Selborne birds--the cirl bunting and the swift. At about four -o'clock each morning the lively, vigorous song of the cirl bunting -would be heard from the gardens or ground of the Wakes, at the foot -of the hill. From four to six, at intervals, was his best -singing-time; later in the day he sang at much longer intervals. -There appeared to be three pairs of breeding birds: one at the Wakes, -another on the top of the hill to the left of the Zigzag path, {173} -and a third below the churchyard. The cock bird of the last pair -sang at intervals every day during my visit from a tree in the -churchyard, and from a big sycamore growing at the side of it. On -14th July I had a good opportunity of judging the penetrative power -of this bunting's voice, for by chance, just as the bells commenced -ringing for the six o'clock Sunday evening service, the bird, perched -on a small cypress in the churchyard, began to sing. Though only -about forty yards from the tower, he was not in the least discomposed -by the clanging of the bells, but sang at proper intervals the usual -number of times--six or eight--his high, incisive voice sounding -distinct through that tempest of jangled metallic music. - -[Sidenote: Cirl bunting] - -I was often at Farringdon, a village close by, and there, too, the -churchyard had its cirl bunting, singing merrily at intervals from a -perch not above thirty yards from the building. And as at Selborne -and Farringdon, so I have found it in most places in Hampshire, -especially in the southern half of the county; the cirl is the -village bunting whose favourite singing place is in the quiet -churchyard or the shade-trees at the farm: compared with other -members of the genus he might almost be called our domestic bunting. -The yellowhammer is never heard in a village: at Selborne to find him -one had to climb the hill and go out on the common, and there he -could be heard drawling out his lazy song all day long. How curious -to think that Gilbert White never distinguished between these two -species, although it {174} is probable that he heard the cirl on -every summer day during the greater part of his life. - -[Sidenote: Visiting swifts] - -The swifts at Selborne interested me even more, and I spent a good -many hours observing them; but the swifts I watched were not, strange -to say, the native Selborne birds. When I arrived I took particular -notice of the swallows and swifts--a natural thing to do in Gilbert -White's village. The swallows, I was sorry to find, had decreased so -greatly in numbers since my former visits that there were but few -left. The house-martins, though still not scarce, had also fallen -off a good deal. Of swifts there were about eight or nine pairs, all -with young in their nests, in holes under the eaves of different -cottages. The old birds appeared to be very much taken up with -feeding their young: they ranged about almost in solitude, never more -than four or five birds being seen together, and that only in the -evening, and even when in company they were silent and their flight -comparatively languid. This continued from the 12th to the 16th, but -on that day, at a little past seven o'clock in the evening, I was -astonished to see a party of over fifty swifts rushing through the -air over the village in the usual violent way, uttering excited -screams as they streamed by. Rising to some height in the air, they -would scatter and float above the church for a few moments, then -close and rush down and stream across the Plestor, coming as low as -the roofs of the cottages, then along the village street for a -distance of forty or fifty yards, after which they would mount up and -return to the {175} church, to repeat the same race over the same -course again and again. They continued their pastime for an hour or -longer, after which the flock began to diminish, and in a short time -had quite melted away. - -On the following evening I was absent, but some friends staying at -the village watched for me, and they reported that the birds appeared -after seven o'clock and played about the place for an hour or two, -then vanished as before. - -On the afternoon of the 18th I went with my friends to the ground -behind the churchyard, from which a view of the sky all round can be -obtained. Four or five swifts were visible quietly flying about the -sky, all wide apart. At six o'clock a little bunch of half a dozen -swifts formed, and began to chase each other in the usual way, and -more birds, singly, and in twos and threes, began to arrive. Some of -these were seen coming to the spot from the direction of Alton. -Gradually the bunch grew until it was a big crowd numbering seventy -to eighty birds, and as it grew the excitement of the birds -increased: until eight o'clock they kept up their aerial mad gambols, -and then, as on the previous evenings, the flock gradually dispersed. - -On the evening of the 19th the performance was repeated, the birds -congregated numbering about sixty. On the 20th the number had -diminished to about forty, and an equal number returned on the -following evening; and this was the last time. We watched in vain -for them on the 22nd: no swifts {176} but the half-a-dozen Selborne -birds usually to be seen towards evening were visible; nor did they -return on any other day up to the 24th, when my visit came to an end. - -It is possible, and even probable, that these swifts which came from -a distance to hold their evening games at Selborne were birds that -had already finished breeding, and were now free to go from home and -spend a good deal of time in purely recreative exercises. The -curious point is that they should have made choice of this sultry -spot for such a purpose. It was, moreover, new to me to find that -swifts do sometimes go a distance from home to indulge in such -pastimes. I had always thought that the birds seen pursuing each -other with screams through the sky at any place were the dwellers and -breeders in the locality; and this is probably the idea that most -persons have. - - -I wish I could have visited Selborne again last July, in order to -find out whether or not the evening gatherings and pastimes of the -swifts occur annually. But I was engaged elsewhere, and at the -village I failed to discover any person with interest enough in such -subjects to watch for me. It would have been very strange if I had -found such a one. - -It was not until October 1902 that I went back, two months after the -swifts had gone; but I was well occupied for two or three weeks -during this latest visit in observing the ways of a grasshopper. - -There has already been much about insects in {177} this book, and it -may seem that I am giving a disproportionate amount of space to these -negligible atomies; nevertheless I should not like to conclude this -chapter without adding an account of yet another species, one indeed -worthy to rank among the Insect Notables of Southern England -described in a former chapter. The account comes best in this place, -since the species had seemed rare, or nowhere abundant, until, in -October, I found it most common in Selborne parish; and here I came -to know it well, as I had come to know its great green relation, -_Locusta viridissima_, at Longparish. Both are of one family, and -are night singers, but the Selborne insect belongs to a different -genus--_Thamnotrizon_--of which it is the only British -representative; and in colour and habits it differs widely from the -green grasshoppers. The members of this charming family are found in -all warm and temperate countries throughout the world: in this island -we may say that they are at the extreme northern limit of their -range. Of our nine British species only three are found north of the -Thames. _Thamnotrizon cinereus_ is one of these, but is mainly a -southern species, and the latest of our grasshoppers to come to -maturity. In September it is full grown, and may be heard until -November. It is much smaller than _viridissima_, and is very dark in -colour, the female, which has no vestige of wings, being of a uniform -deep olive-brown, except the under surface, which is bright -buttercup-yellow. The male, though smaller than the female, and like -her in colour, has a more {178} distinguished appearance on account -of his small aborted wings, which serve as an instrument of music, -and form a disc of ashy grey colour on his black and brown body. - -[Sidenote: The black grasshopper] - -Unless looked at closely this insect appears black, and might very -well be called the black grasshopper. And here it is necessary once -more to protest against what must be regarded as a gross neglect of a -plain duty on the part of writers on our native insects who will not -give English names even to the most common and interesting species. -Unless it has a vernacular name they will go on speaking of it as -_Thamnotrizon cinereus_, _Cordulegaster annulatus_, or whatever it -may be, to the end of time. This grasshopper has no common name that -I can discover: I have caught and shown it to the country people, -asking them to name it, and they informed me that it was a -"grasshopper," or else a "cricket." Black, or black and yellow, or -autumn grasshopper would do very well: but any English name would be -better than the entomologist's ponderous double name compounded out -of two dead languages. - -Our black grasshopper lives in grass and herbage, in the shade of -bushes and trees, and so long as the weather is hot it is hard to -find him, as he keeps in the shade. He is furthermore the shyest and -wariest of his family, and ready to vanish on the least alarm. He -does not leap, but slips away into hiding; and if one goes too near, -or attempts to take him, he suddenly vanishes. He simply drops down -through the leaves to the earth, and sits close and motionless {179} -at the roots on the dark mould, and unless touched will not move. -When traced down to his hiding-place he leaps away, and again sits -motionless, where, owing to his dark colour on the dark soil, he is -invisible. Later, when the weather grows cool, he comes out and sits -on a leaf, basking by the hour in the sun, his eyes turned from it; -and it is then easy to find him, the dark colour making him appear -very conspicuous on a green leaf. Occasionally he sings in the -afternoon, but, as a rule, he begins at dusk, and continues for some -hours. To sing, the males often go high up in the bushes, and when -emitting their sound are almost constantly on the move. - -The sound is a cricket-like chirp; it is never sustained, but in -quality it resembles the subtle musical shrilling of the -_viridissima_, although it does not carry half so far. - -In disposition the two species, the black and great green -grasshoppers, are very unlike. The female _viridissima_, we have -seen, is the most indolent and placid creature imaginable, while the -males are perpetually challenging and fighting one another. The -males of the black grasshopper I could never detect fighting. It is -not easy to observe them, as they sing mostly at night; and as a rule -when singing they are well hidden by the leaves. But I have -occasionally found two males singing together, apparently against -each other, when I would watch them, and although as they moved about -they constantly passed and repassed so close that they all but -touched, they never struck at each other, nor put themselves into -fighting {180} attitudes. One day I found two males sitting on a -leaf together, side by side, like the best of friends, basking in the -sun. - -The female, on the other hand, is a most unpleasant creature, so -restless that in confinement she spends the whole time in running -about in her cage or box, incessantly trying to get out, examining -everything, eating of everything given her, and persecuting any other -insect placed with her. When I put males and females together the -poor males were kicked and bitten until they died. - -Before visiting Selborne in October, it had seemed to me that hunting -for this grasshopper was a most fascinating pursuit. It was very -hard to find him by day, and when by chance you caught sight of him, -sitting on a green leaf in the sun and looking like a small, very -dark-coloured frog with abnormally long hind legs, it was generally -in a bramble bush, into which he would vanish when approached too -near. - -When at Selborne, one evening I heard one singing among the herbage -at the foot of the Hanger, and next morning I found one at the same -spot--a female, sitting on a gold-red fallen beech leaf, her -blackness on the brilliant leaf making her very conspicuous. A -little later, when the wet weather improved, I found the grasshopper -all about the village, and even in it; but it was most abundant near -the Well Head and in the hedges between Selborne and Nore Hill. Here -on a sunny morning I could find a score or more of them, and at dark -they could be heard in numbers chirping in all the hedges. - - - - -{181} - -CHAPTER IX - -The Selborne atmosphere--Unhealthy faces--Selborne Common--Character -of scenery--Wheatham Hill--Hampshire village churches--Gilbert -White's strictures--Churches big and little--The peasants' religious -feeling--Charm of old village churches--Seeking Priors Dean--Privett -church--Blackmoor church--Churchyards--Change in gravestones--Beauty -of old gravestones--Red alga on gravestones--Yew trees in -churchyards--British dragon-tree--Farringdon village and -yew--Crowhurst yew--Hurstbourne Priors yew--How yew trees are injured. - - -It is a pleasure to be at Selborne; nevertheless I find I always like -Selborne best when I am out of it, especially when I am rambling -about that bit of beautiful country on the border of which it lies. -The memory of Gilbert White; the old church with its low, square -tower and its famous yew tree; above all, the constant sight of the -Hanger clothed in its beechen woods--green, or bronze and red-gold, -or purple-brown in leafless winter--all these things do not prevent a -sense of lassitude, of ill-being, which I experience in the village -when I am too long in it, and which vanishes when I quit it, and seem -to breathe a better air. This is no mere fancy, nor something -peculiar to myself; the natives, too, are subject to this secret -trouble, and are, some of them, conscious of it. Round about -Selborne you will find those who were born and bred in the village, -who say they were never well until they quitted it; and some {182} of -these declare that they would not return even if some generous person -were to offer them a cottage rent free. The appearance of the -people, too, may be considered in this connection. Mary Russell -Mitford exclaims in one of her village sketches that there was not a -pretty face in the country-side. The want of comeliness which is so -noticeable in the southern parts of Berkshire is not confined to that -county. The people of Berkshire and Hampshire, of the blonde type, -are very much alike. But there are degrees; and if you want to see, -I will not say a handsome, nor a pretty, but a passably fresh and -pleasant face among the cottagers, you must go out of Selborne to -some neighbouring village to look for it. - -[Sidenote: Selborne Common] - -But this question does not now concern us. The best of Selborne is -the common on the hill--all the better for the steep hill which must -be climbed to get to it, since that difficult way prevents the people -from making too free use of it, and regarding it as a sort of -back-yard or waste place to throw their rubbish on. It is a -perpetual joy to the children. One morning in October I met there -some youngsters gathering kindling-wood, and feasting at the same -time on wild fruits--the sloes were just then at their best. They -told me that they had only recently come to live in Selborne from -Farringdon, their native village. "And which place do you like -best?" I asked. "Selborne!" they shouted in a breath, and indeed -appeared surprised that I had asked such a question. No wonder. -This hill-top common is the {183} most forest-like, the wildest in -England, and the most beautiful as well, both in its trees and -tangles of all kinds of wild plants that flourish in waste places, -and in the prospects which one gets of the surrounding country. -Here, seeing the happiness of the boys, I have wished to be a boy -again. But one does not think so much of this spot when one comes to -know the country round, and finds that Selborne Hill is but one of -many hills of the same singular and beautiful type, sloping away -gently on one side, and presenting a bold, almost precipitous front -on the other, in most cases clothed on the steep side with dense -beech woods. It is now eight years since I began to form an -acquaintance with this east corner of Hampshire, but not until last -October (1902) did I know how beautiful it was. From Selborne Hill -one sees something of it; a better sight is obtained from Noire Hill, -where one is able to get some idea of the peculiar character of the -scenery. It is all wildly irregular, high and low grounds thrown -together in a pretty confusion, and the soil everywhere fertile, so -that the general effect is of extreme richness. One sees, too, that -the human population is sparse, and that it has always been as it is -now, and man's work--his old irregular fields, and the unkept hedges -which, like the thickets on the waste places, are self-planted, and -have been self-planted for centuries, and the old deep-winding lanes -and by-roads--have come at last to seem one with nature's work. Out -of this broken, variegated, richly green surface, here and there, in -a sort of range, but {184} irregular like all else, the hills, or -hangers, lift their steep, bank-like fronts--splendid masses of red -and russet gold against the soft grey-blue autumnal sky. It is -delightful to walk through this bit of country from Nore Hill, and -from hill to hill, across green fields, for the farms here are like -wild lands that all are free to use, to Wheatham Hill, the highest -point, which rises 800 feet above the sea-level. From this elevation -one looks over a great part of that green variegated country of the -Hangers, and sees on one hand where it fades close by into the sand -and pine district beginning at Wolmer Forest, and on another side, -beyond the little town of Petersfield, the region of great rolling -downs stretching far away into Sussex. - - -[Sidenote: Village churches] - -In my rambles about this corner of Hampshire, during which I visited -all the villages nearest to Selborne--Empshott, Hawkley, Greatham, -East and West Tisted, Worldham, Priors Dean, Colemore, Privett, -Froxfield, Hartley Maudit, Blackmore, Oakhanger, Kingsley, Farringdon -and Newton Valence--I could not help thinking a good deal about -Hampshire village churches generally. It was a subject which had -often enough been in my mind before in other parts of the county, but -it now came back to me in connection with Gilbert White's strictures -on these sacred buildings. Their "meanness" produced a feeling in -him which is the nearest approach to indignation discoverable in his -pages. He is speaking of jackdaws breeding in rabbit holes, and -shrewdly conjectures that this habit has arisen on account of {185} -the absence of steeples and towers suitable as nesting-places. "Many -Hampshire places of worship," he remarks, "make no better appearance -than dovecotes." He envied Northamptonshire, Cambridgeshire, the -Fens of Lincolnshire, and other districts, the number of spires which -presented themselves in every point of view, and concludes: "As an -admirer of prospects I have reason to lament this want in my own -county, for such objects are very necessary ingredients in an elegant -landscape." - -The honoured historian of the parish of Selborne makes me shudder in -this passage. But I am, perhaps, giving too much importance to his -words, since one may judge, from his mention of Norfolk in this -connection as being even worse off than his own county, that he was -not well informed on the subject. Norfolk, like Somerset, abounds in -grand old churches of the Perpendicular period. That smallness, or -"meanness" as he expresses it, of the Hampshire churches, is, to my -mind, one of their greatest merits. The Hampshire village would not -possess that charm which we find in it--its sweet rusticity and -homeliness, and its harmonious appearance in the midst of a nature -green and soft and beautiful--but for that essential feature and part -of it, the church which does not tower vast and conspicuous as a -gigantic asylum or manufactory from among lowly cottages dwarfed by -its proximity to the appearance of pigmy-built huts in the Aruwhimi -forest. These immense churches which in recent years have lifted -their tall spires and towers amidst lowly surroundings in many {186} -rural places, are, as a rule, the work of some zealot who has seared -his sense of beauty with a hot iron, or else of a new over-rich lord -of the manor, who must have all things new, including a big new -church to worship a new God in--his own peculiar Stock Exchange God, -who is a respecter of wealthy persons. Here in Hampshire we have -seen the old but well preserved village church pulled down--doubtless -with the consent of the ecclesiastical authorities--its ancient -monuments broken up and carted away, its brasses made into fire -ornaments by cottagers or sold as old metal, and the very gravestones -used in paving the scullery and offices of the grand new parsonage -built to match the grand new church. - -[Sidenote: Peasants' religious feeling] - -When coming upon one of these "necessary ingredients in an elegant -landscape" in some rural spot I have sometimes wondered what the -feeling of the people who have spent their lives there can be about -it. What effect has the new vast building, with its highly decorated -yet cold and vacant interior, on their dim minds--on their religion, -let us say? It may be a poor unspiritual sort of religion, based on -old traditions and associations, mostly local; but shall we scorn it -on that account? If we look a little closely into the matter, we see -that all men, even the most intellectual, the most spiritual, are -subject to this feeling in some degree, that it is in all religions. -That which from use, from association, becomes symbolic of faith is -in itself sacred. At the present time the Church is torn with -dissensions because of this very question. Certain bodily {187} -positions and signs and gestures, and woven fabrics and garments of -many patterns and colours, and wood and stone and metal objects, and -lighted candles and perfumes--mere hay and stubble to others who have -different symbols--are things essential to worship in some. Touch -these things and you hurt their souls; you deprive them of their -means of communication with another world. So the poor peasant who -was born and lives in a thatched cottage, with his limited -intelligence, his animism, associates the idea of the unseen world -with the sacred objects he has seen and known and handled--the small -ancient building, the red-barked, dark-leafed yew, the green mounds -and lichened gravestones among which he played as a child, and the -dim, low-roofed interior of what was to him God's House. Whatever -there is in his mind that is least earthly, whatever thoughts he may -have of the unseen world and a life beyond this life, were -inseparably bound up with these visible things. - -We need not follow this line any farther; those who believe with me -that the sense of the beautiful is God's best gift to the human soul -will see that I have put the matter on other and higher grounds. The -small village church with its low tower or grey-shingled spire among -the shade trees, is beautiful chiefly because man and nature with its -softening processes have combined to make it a fit part of the scene, -a building which looks as natural and harmonious as an old hedge -which man planted once and nature replanted many times, and as many -an old thatched {188} timbered cottage, and many an old grey ruin, -ivy-grown, with red valerian blooming on its walls. - -To pull down one of these churches to put in its place a gigantic -Gothic structure in brick or stone, better suited in size (and -ugliness) for a London or Liverpool church than for a small rustic -village in Hampshire, is nothing less than a crime. - -[Sidenote: Seeking Priors Dean] - -When calling to mind the churches known to me in this part of -Hampshire, I always think with peculiar pleasure of the smaller ones, -and perhaps with the most pleasure of the smallest of all--Priors -Dean. - -It happened that the maps which I use in my Hampshire rambles and -which I always considered the best--Bartholomew's two miles to the -inch--did not mark Priors Dean, so that I had to go and find it for -myself. I went with a friend one excessively hot day in July, by -Empshott and Hawkley through deep by-roads so deep and narrow and -roofed over with branches as to seem in places like tunnels. On that -hot day in the silent time of year it was strangely still, and gave -one the feeling of being in a country long deserted by man. Its only -inhabitants now appeared to be the bullfinches. In these deep shaded -lanes one constantly hears the faint plaintive little piping sound, -the almost inaudible alarm note of the concealed bird; and at -intervals, following the sound, he suddenly dashes out, showing his -sharp-winged shape and clear grey and black upper plumage marked with -white for a moment or two before vanishing once more in the -overhanging foliage. - -We went a long way round, but at last coming to {189} an open spot we -saw two cottages and two women and a boy standing talking by a gate, -and of these people we asked the way to Priors Dean. They could not -tell us. They knew it was not far away--a mile perhaps; but they had -never been to it, nor seen it, and didn't well know the direction. -The boy when asked shook his head. A middle-aged man was digging -about thirty yards away, and to him one of the women now called, "Can -you tell them the way to Priors Dean?" - -The man left off digging, straightened himself, and gazed steadily at -us for some moments. He was one of the usual type--nine in every ten -farm labourers in this corner of Hampshire are of it--thinnish, of -medium height, a pale, parchment face, rather large straightish nose, -pale eyes with little speculation in them, shaved mouth and chin, and -small side whiskers as our fathers wore them. The moustache has not -yet been adopted by these conservatives. The one change they have -made is, alas! in their dress--the rusty black coat for the smock -frock. - -When he had had his long gaze, he said, "Priors Dean?" - -"Yes, Priors Dean," repeated the woman, raising her voice. - -He turned up two spadefuls of earth, then asked again, "Priors Dean?" - -"Priors Dean!" shouted the woman. "Can't you tell 'em how to get to -it?" Then she laughed. She had perhaps come from some other part of -the country where minds are not quite so slow, and where the {190} -slow-minded person is treated as being deaf and shouted at. - -Then, at last, he stuck his spade into the soil, and leaving it, -slowly advanced to the gate and told us to follow a path which he -pointed out, and when we got on the hill we would see Priors Dean -before us. - -[Sidenote: Churches old and new] - -And that was how we found it. There is a satirical saying in the -other villages that if you want to find the church at Priors Dean you -must first cut down the nettles. There were no nettles nor weeds of -any kind, only the small ancient church with its little shingled -spire standing in the middle of a large green graveyard with about a -dozen or fifteen gravestones scattered about, three old tombs, and, -close to the building, an ancient yew tree. This is a big, and has -been a bigger, tree, as a large part of the trunk has perished on one -side, but as it stands it measures nearly twenty-four feet round a -yard from the earth. This, with a small farmhouse, in old times a -manor house, and its outbuildings and a cottage or two, make the -village. So quiet a spot is it that to see a human form or hear a -human voice comes almost as a surprise. The little antique church, -the few stones, the dark ancient tree--these are everything, and the -effect on the mind is strangely grateful--a sense of enduring peace, -with something of that solitariness and desolation which we find in -unspoilt wildernesses. - -From these smallest churches, which appear like a natural growth -where they are seen, I turn to the large and new, and the largest of -all at this place--that of Privett. From its gorgeous yet vacant and -{191} cold interior, and from the whole vast structure, including -that necessary ingredient in an elegant landscape, the soaring spire -visible for many miles around, I turn away as from a jarring and -discordant thing--the feeling one experiences at the sight of those -brand-new big houses built by over-rich stock-jobbers on many hills -and open heaths in Surrey and, alas! in Hampshire. - -I do not, however, say that all new and large churches raised in -small rustic centres appear as discordant things. Even in the group -of villages which I have named there is a new and comparatively large -one which moves one to admiration the church of Blackmoor. Here the -vegetation and surroundings are unlike those which accord best with -the small typical structures, the low tower and shingled spire. The -tall, square tower of Blackmoor, of white stone roofed with red -tiles, rises amid the pines of Wolmer Forest, simple and beautiful in -shape, and gives a touch of grace and grateful colour to that darker, -austere nature. From every point of view it is a pleasure to the -eye, and because of its enduring beauty the memory of the man who -raised it is like a perfume in the wilderness. - -It is, however, time that bestows the best grace, the indescribable -charm to the village church--long centuries of time, which gives the -feeling, the expression, of immemorial peace to the weathered and -ivied building itself and the surrounding space, the churchyard, with -its green heaps, and scattered stones, and funeral yew. - -{192} - -[Sidenote: Change in gravestones] - -The associated feeling, the _expression_, is undoubtedly the chief -thing in the general effect, but the constituents or objects which -compose the scene are in themselves pleasing; and one scarcely less -important than the building itself, the universal grass, the dark, -red-barked tree, is the gravestone. I mean the gravestone that is -attractive in shape, which may be seen in every old village -churchyard in Hampshire; for not all the stones are of this -character. The stone that is beautiful dates back half a century at -least, but very few are as old as a century and a half. When we get -that far and farther back the inscription is obliterated or -indecipherable. Only here and there we may by chance find some -stone, half buried in the soil, of an exceptional hardness, marking -the spot where lieth one who departed this life in the seventeenth or -early in the eighteenth century. There are many old stones, it is -true, with nothing legible on them, but one does not know how old -they are. It is not that these gravestones are beautiful only -because they are old, and have had their hard surface softened and -embroidered with green moss and lichen of many shades from pale-grey -to orange and red and brown. The form of the stone, the -stone-cutter's work, was beautiful before Nature began to work on it -with her sunshine, her rain, her invisible seed. I cannot think why -this old fashion, or rather, let us say, this tender, sacred custom, -of marking the last resting-place of the dead with a memorial -satisfying to the ęsthetic sense, should have gone or died out. The -gravestones {193} used at the present time are, as a rule, twice as -big as the old ones, and are perfectly plain--immense stone slabs, -inscribed with big, fat, black letters differing in size, the whole -inscription curiously resembling the local auctioneer's bills to be -seen pasted up on barn-doors, fences, and other suitable places. So -big and hard, and bold, and ugly--I try not to see them! - -Look from these at the old stone which the earthworms have been busy -trying to bury for a century, until the lower half of the inscription -is underground; the stone which the lichen has embossed and richly -coloured; round which the grass grows so close and lovingly, and the -small creeping ivy tries to cover. This which has been added to it -is but a part of its beauty: you see that its lines are graceful, -that they were made so; that the inscription--"Here lyeth the body," -etc.--is not cut in letters in use in newspapers and advertising -placards, and have therefore no common nor degrading associations, -but are letters of other forms, graceful, too, in their lines; and -that above the inscription there are sculptured and symbolic figures -and lines--emblems of mortality, eternal hope, and a future -life--heads of cherubs, winged and blowing on horns, and the sun and -wings; skulls and crossbones, and hour-glass and scythe; the funeral -urn and weeping-willow; the lighted torch; the heart in flames, or -bleeding, or transfixed with arrows; the angel's trumpet, the crown -of glory, the palm and the lily, the laurel leaf, and many more. - -{194} - -Did we think this art, or this custom, too little a thing to cherish -any longer? I cannot find any person with a word to say about it. I -have tried and the result was curious. I have invited persons of my -acquaintance into an old churchyard and begged them to look on this -stone and on this--the hard ugliness of one, an insult to the dead, -and the beauty, the pathos, of the other. And they have immediately -fallen into a melancholy silence, or else they have suddenly become -angry, apparently for no cause. But the reason probably was that -they had never given a thought to the subject, that when they had -buried someone dear to them--a mother or wife or daughter--they -simply went to the stonemason and ordered a gravestone, leaving him -to fashion it in his own way. The reason of the reason--the full -explanation of the singular fact that they, in these house-beautiful -and generally art-worshipping times, had given no thought to the -matter until it was unexpectedly sprung upon them; and that if they -had lived, say, a hundred years ago, they would have given it some -thought--this the reader will easily find out for himself. - - -[Sidenote: Beauty of old gravestones] - -It is comforting to reflect that gravestones do not last for ever, -nor for very long; and in the meantime Nature is doing what she can -with our ugly modern memorials, touching, softening, and tingeing -them with her mosses, lichens, and with algę--her beautiful -_iolithus_. In most churchyards in southern England we see many -stones stained a {195} peculiar colour, a bright rust-red, darkest in -dry weather, and brightest in wet summers, often varying to pink and -purple and orange; but whatever the hue or shade the effect on the -grey stone, lichened or not, is always beautiful. It is not a -lichen; when the staining is looked closely at nothing is seen but a -roughness, a powdery appearance, on the stone's surface. It is an -aerial alga of the genus _Croöleptus_, confined to the southern half -of England, and most common in Hampshire, where its beautifying blush -may sometimes be seen on old stone walls of churches, and old houses -and ruins; but it flourishes most on gravestones, especially in moist -situations. The stone must not be too hard, and must, moreover, be -acted on by the weather for well-nigh half a century before the alga -begins to show on it; but you will sometimes see it on an -exceptionally soft stone dating no more than thirty or forty years -back. On old stones it is very common, and peculiarly beautiful in -wet summers. In June 1902, after many days of rain, I stood one -evening at the little gate at Brockenhurst churchyard, and counted -between me and the church twenty gravestones stained with the red -alga, showing a richness and variety of colouring never seen before, -the result of so much wet weather. For this alga, which plays so -important a part in nature's softening and beautifying effect on -man's work--which is mentioned in no book unless it be some purely -technical treatise dealing with the lower vegetable forms--this alga, -despite its aerial habit, is still in essence a water-plant: the sun -and dry {196} wind burn its life out and darken it to the colour of -ironstone, so that to anyone who may notice the dark stain it seems a -colour of the stone itself; but when rain falls the colour freshens -and brightens as if the old grey stone had miraculously been made to -live. - - -[Sidenote: Churchyard yews] - -If never a word has been written about that red colour with which -Nature touches the old stones to make them beautiful, a thousand or -ten thousand things have been said about the yew, the chief feature -and ornament of the village churchyard, and many conjectures have we -seen as to the reason of the very ancient custom of planting this -tree where the dead are laid. The tree itself gives a better reason -than any contained in books. It says something to the soul in man -which the talking or chattering yew omitted to tell the modern poet; -but very long ago someone said, in the _Death of Fergus_, "Patriarch -of long-lasting woods is the yew; sacred to forests as is well -known." That ancient sacred character, which survived the -introduction of Christianity, lives still in every mind that has kept -any vestige of animism, the root and essence of all that is wonderful -and sacred in nature. That red and purple bark is the very colour of -life, and this tree's life, compared with other things, is -everlasting. The stones we set up as memorials grow worn and seamed -and hoary with age, even like men, and crumble to dust at last; in -time new stones are put in their place, and these, too, grow old and -perish, and {197} are succeeded by others; and through all changes, -through the ages, the tree lives on unchanged. With its huge, tough, -red trunk; its vast, knotted arms outstretched; its rich, dark mantle -of undying foliage, it stands like a protecting god on the earth, -patriarch and monarch of woods; and indeed it seems but right and -natural that not to oak nor holly, nor any other reverenced tree, but -to the yew it was given to keep guard over the bodies and souls of -those who have been laid in the earth. - -The yew is sometimes called the "Hampshire weed," on account of its -abundance in the county; if it must have a second name, I suggest -that the Hampshire or British dragon-tree would be a better and more -worthy one. It would admirably fit some ancient churchyard yews in -the neighbourhood of Selborne, especially that of Farringdon. - -In the great mass of literature concerning Gilbert White, there is -curiously little said about this village; yet it has one of the most -interesting old churches in the county--the church in which White -officiated for over a quarter of a century, during all the best years -of his life, in fact; for when he resigned the curacy at Farringdon -to take that of Selborne, for which he had waited so long, he was -within two years of bidding a formal farewell to natural history, and -within eight of his death. The church register from 1760 to 1785 is -written in his clear, beautiful hand, and in the rectory garden there -is a large Spanish chestnut-tree planted by him. Although not so -fortunate in its surroundings as Selborne, with {198} its Lyth and -flowery Bourne and wooded Hanger, Farringdon village, with its noble -church and fine old farm-buildings and old cottages, is the better -village of the two. At the side of the churchyard there is an old -oast-house, now used as a barn, which for quaintness and beauty has -hardly its match in England. The churchyard itself is a pretty, -peaceful wilderness, deep in grass, with ivy and bramble hanging to -the trees, and spreading over tombs and mounds. Long may it be kept -sacred from the gardener, with his abhorred pruning-hook, his basket -of geranium cuttings--inharmonious flower!--and his brushwood broom -to make it all tidy. Finally, there is the wonderful old yew. - -[Sidenote: Farringdon yew] - -A great deal has been written first and last about the Selborne yew, -which appears to rank as one of the half-dozen biggest yew trees in -the country. Its age is doubtless very great, and may greatly exceed -the "thousand years" usually given to a very large churchyard yew. -The yews planted two hundred years ago by Gilbert White's grandfather -in the parsonage garden close by, are but saplings in comparison. A -black poplar would grow a bigger trunk in less than ten years. The -Selborne yew was indeed one of the antiquities of the village when -White described it a century and a quarter ago. It is, moreover, the -best-grown, healthiest, and most vigorous-looking yew of its size in -Britain. The Farringdon yew, the bigger tree, has a far more aged -aspect--the appearance of a tree which has been decaying for an -exceedingly long period. - -{199} - -Trees, like men, have their middle period, when their increase slowly -lessens until it ceases altogether; their long stationary period, and -their long decline: each of these periods may, in the case of the -yew, extend to centuries; and we know that behind them all there may -have been centuries of slow growth. The Selborne yew has added -something to its girth since it was measured by White, and is now -twenty-seven feet round in its biggest part, and exceeds by at least -three feet the big yew at Priors Dean, and the biggest of the three -churchyard yews at Hawkley. The Farringdon yew in its biggest part, -about five feet from the ground, measures thirty feet, and to judge -by its ruinous condition it must have ceased adding to its bulk more -than a century ago. One regrets that White gave no account of its -size and appearance in his day. It has, in the usual manner, decayed -above and below, the upper branches dying down while the trunk rots -away beneath, the tree meanwhile keeping itself alive and renewing -its youth, as it were, by means of that power which the yew possesses -of saving portions of its trunk from complete decay by covering them -inside and out with new bark. - -In the churchyard yew at Crowhurst, Surrey, we see that the upper -part of the tree has decayed until nothing but the low trunk, crowned -with a poor fringe of late branches, has been left; in this case the -trunk remains outwardly almost entire--an empty shell or cylinder, -large enough to accommodate fourteen persons on the circular bench -placed within the cavity. In other cases we see that the trunk has -{200} been eaten through and through, and split up into strips; that -the strips, covered inside with new bark, have become separate -trunks, in some instances united above, as in that of the yew in -South Hayling churchyard. The Farringdon tree has decayed below in -this way; long strips from the top to the roots have rotted and -turned to dust; and the sound portions, covered in and out with bark, -form a group of half a dozen flattened boles, placed in a circle, all -but one, which springs from the middle, and forms a fantastically -twisted column in the centre of the edifice. Between this central -strangely shaped bole, now dead, and the surrounding ring there is -space for a man to walk round in. - -It is a wonderful tree, which White looked at every day for -five-and-twenty years, yet never mentioned, and which Loe says -nothing about in his _Yew Trees of Great Britain and Ireland_. The -title of this work is misleading: _Famous Yew Trees_ it should have -been, since it is nothing but a collection of facts as to size, -supposed age, etc., of trees that have often been measured and -described, and are accordingly well known. It is well, to my way of -thinking, that he attempted nothing more. It is always a depressing -thought, when one has discovered a wonderful or a beautiful thing, -that a very full and very exact account of it is and must be -contained in some musty monograph by some industrious, dreary person. -At all events, I can say that the yew trees which have most attracted -me, which come up when I think of the yew as a wonderful and a sacred -tree, are not {201} in the book. Of my Hampshire favourites I will, -for a special reason, speak of but one more--the yew in the -churchyard of Hurstbourne Priors, a small village on the upper Test, -near Andover. - -[Sidenote: Hurstbourne Priors yew] - -This tree, which is doubtless very aged, has not grown an enormous -trunk, nor is it high for an old yew, but its appearance is -nevertheless strangely impressive, owing to the length of its lower -horizontal branches, which extend to a distance of thirty to -thirty-five feet from the trunk, and would lie on the ground if not -kept up by props. Another thing which make one wonder is the number -of graves that are crowded together beneath these vast sheltering -arms. One may count over thirty stones, some very old; many more -have probably perished, and there are besides many green mounds. I -have watched in a churchyard in the Midlands a grave being dug under -a yew, at about three yards' distance from the trunk: a barrowful of -roots was taken out during the process. It seemed to me that a very -serious injury was being inflicted on the tree, and it is probable -that many of our very old churchyard yews have been dwarfed in their -growth by such cutting of the roots. But what shall we say of the -Hurstbourne Priors yew, from which not one but thirty or forty -barrow-loads of living roots must have been taken at various times to -make room for so many coffins! And what is the secret of the custom -in this, and probably other villages, of putting the dead so close to -or under the shelter of the tree? - -Compare this Hurstbourne Priors yew, and many {202} other ancient -churchyard yews in Hampshire, with that of Selborne, which albeit -probably no older is double their size: is it not probable that the -Selborne tree is the largest, best grown, and most vigorous of the -old yews because it has not been mutilated at its roots as the others -have been? - -There is but one grave beneath or near this tree; not the grave of -any important person, but a nameless green mound of some obscure -peasant. I had often looked with a feeling almost of astonishment at -that solitary conspicuous mound in such a place, midway between the -trunk of the tree and the church door, wondering who it was whose -poor remains had been so honoured, and why it was. Then by chance I -found out the whole story; but it came to me in scraps, at different -times and places, and that is how I will give it to the reader, in -fragments, in the course of the following chapter. - - - - -{203} - -CHAPTER X - -Wolmer Forest--Charm of contrast and novelty in scenery--Aspect of -Wolmer--Heath and pine--Colour of water and soil--An old woman's -recollections--Story of the "Selborne mob"--Past and present times -compared--Hollywater Clump--Age of trees--Bird life in the -forest--Teal in their breeding haunts--Boys in the forest--Story of -the horn-blower. - - -The first part of the story of that Selborne mound in a strange place -was heard at Wolmer Forest, over five years ago, during my first -prolonged visit to that spot. I have often been there since, and -have stayed many days, but a first impression of a place, as of a -face, is always the best, the brightest, the truest, and I wish to -describe Wolmer as I saw it then. - -It struck me on that visit that the pleasure we have in visible -nature depends in a measure on contrast and novelty. Never is moist -verdure so refreshing and delightful to the eye as when we come to it -from brown heaths and grey barren downs and uplands. So, too, the -greenness of the green earth sharpens our pleasure in all stony and -waste places; trim flower gardens show us the beauty of thorns and -briars, and make us in love with desolation. As in light and shade, -wet and dry, tempest and calm, so the peculiar attractions of each -scene and aspect of nature are best "illustrated by their contraries." - -I had, accordingly, the best preparation for a visit {204} to Wolmer -by a few days' ramble in Alice Holt Forest, with its endless oaks, -and in the luxuriant meadows and cool shady woods at Waverley Abbey. -It was a great change to Wolmer Forest. Although its soil is a -"hungry, bare sand," it has long been transformed from the naked -heath of Gilbert White's time to a vast unbroken plantation. Looked -upon from some eminence it has a rough, dark aspect. There are no -smooth summits and open pleasant places; all is covered by the shaggy -mantle of the pines. But it is nowhere gloomy, as pine woods are apt -to be: the trees are not big enough, on account of that hungry sand -in which they are rooted, or because they are not yet very old. The -pines not being too high and shady to keep the sun and air out, the -old aboriginal vegetation has not been killed: in most places the -ling forms a thick undergrowth, and looks green, while outside of the -forest, in the full glare of the sun, it has a harsh, dry, dead -appearance. - -On account of this abundance of ling a strange and lovely appearance -is produced in some favourable years, when the flowers are in great -profusion and all the plants blossom at one time. That most -beautiful sight of the early spring, when the bloom of the wild -hyacinth forms a sheet of azure colour under the woodland trees, is -here repeated in July, but with a difference of hue both in the trees -above and in the bloom beneath. - -[Sidenote: Wolmer Forest] - -In May, Wolmer is comparatively flowerless, and there is no bright -colour, except that of the earth itself in some naked spot. The -water of the sluggish {205} boggy streamlets in the forest, -tributaries of the well-named Dead Water, takes a deep red or orange -hue from the colour of the soil. The sand abounds with ironstone, -which in the mass is deep rust-red- and purple-coloured. When -crushed and pulverised by traffic and weather on the roads, it turns -to a vivid chrome yellow. In the hot noonday sun the straight road -that runs through the forest appeared like a yellow band or ribbon. -That was a curious and novel picture, which I often had before me -during the excessively dry and windy weather in May--the vast -whity-blue, hot sky, without speck or stain of cloud above, and the -dark forest covering the earth, cut through by that yellow zone, -extending straight away until it was lost in the hazy distance. Even -stranger was the appearance when the wind blew strongest and raised -clouds of dust from the road, which flew like fiery yellow vapours -athwart the black pines. - -[Sidenote: The "Selborne mob"] - -In a small house by the roadside in the middle of the forest I found -a temporary home. My aged landlady proved a great talker, and -treated me to a good deal of Hampshire dialect. Her mind was well -stored with ancient memories. At first I let her ramble on without -paying too much attention; but at length, while speaking of the many -little ups and downs of her not uneventful life, she asked me if I -knew Selborne, and then informed me that she was a native of that -village, and that her family had lived there for generations. Her -mother had reached the age of eighty-six years; she had married {206} -her third husband when over seventy. By her first she had had two -and by her second thirteen children, and my informant, who is now -aged seventy-six, was the last born. This wonderful mother of hers, -who had survived three husbands, and whose memory went back several -years into the eighteenth century, had remembered the Rev. Gilbert -White very well: she was aged about twelve when he died. It was -wonderful, she said, how many interesting things she used to tell -about him; for Gilbert White, whose name was known to the great world -outside of his parish, was often in her mind when she recalled her -early years. Unfortunately, these interesting things had now all -slipped out of my landlady's memory. Whenever I brought her to the -point she would stand with eyes cast down, the fingers of her right -hand on her forehead, trying--trying to recall something to tell me: -a simple creature, who was without imagination, and could invent -nothing. Then little by little she would drift off into something -else--to recollections of people and events not so remote in time, -scenes she had witnessed herself, and which had made a deeper -impression on her mind. One was how her father, her mother's second -husband, had acted as horn-blower to the "Selborne mob," when the -poor villagers were starving; and how, blowing on his horn, he had -assembled his fellow-revolutionists, and led them to an attack on the -poorhouse, where they broke down the doors and made a bonfire of the -furniture; then on to the neighbouring village of Headley to get -recruits for their {207} little army. Then the soldiery arrived on -the scene, and took them prisoners and sent them to Winchester, where -they were tried by some little unremembered Judge Jeffreys, who -sentenced many or most of them to transportation; but not the -horn-blower, who had escaped, and was in hiding among the beeches of -the famous Selborne Hanger. Only at midnight he would steal down -into the village to get a bite of food and hear the news from his -vigorous and vigilant wife. At length, during one of these midnight -descents, he was seen, and captured, and sent to Winchester. But by -this time the authorities had grown sick--possibly ashamed--of -dealing so harshly with a few poor peasants, whose sufferings had -made them mad, and the horn-blower was pardoned, and died in bed at -home when his time came. - -I did not cease questioning the poor woman, because she would not -admit that all she had heard about Gilbert White was gone past -recall. Often and often had she thought of what her mother had told -her. Up to within two or three years ago she remembered it all so -well. What was it now? Once more, standing dejected in the middle -of the room, she would cudgel her old brains. So much had happened -since she was a girl. She had been brought up to farm-work. Here -would follow the names of various farms in the parishes of Selborne, -Newton Valence, and Oakhanger, where she had worked, mostly in the -fields; and of the farmers, long dead and gone most of them, who had -employed her. All her life she had worked {208} hard, struggling to -live. When people complained of hard times now, of the little that -was paid them for their work, she and her husband remembered what it -was thirty and forty and fifty years ago, and they wondered what -people really wanted. Cheap food, cheap clothing, cheap education -for the children--everything was cheap now, and the pay more. And -she had had so many children to bring up--ten; and seven of them were -married, and were now having so many children of their own that she -could hardly keep count of them. - -It was idle to listen; and at last, in desperation, I would jump up -and rush out, for the wind was calling in the pines, and the birds -were calling, and what they had to tell was just then of more -interest than any human story. - -Not far from my cottage there was a hill, from the summit of which -the whole area of the forest was visible, and the country all round -for many leagues beyond it. I did not like this hill, and refused to -pay it a second visit. The extent of country it revealed made the -forest appear too small; it spoilt the illusion of a practically -endless wilderness, where I could stroll about all day and see no -cultivated spot, and no house, and perhaps no human form. It was, -moreover, positively disagreeable to be stared at across the ocean of -pines by a big, brand-new, red-brick mansion, standing conspicuous, -unashamed, affronting nature, on some wide heath or lonely hillside. - -[Sidenote: Hollywater Clump] - -A second hill, not far from the first, was preferable {209} when I -wished for a wide horizon, or to drink the wind and the music of the -wind. Round and dome-like, it stood alone; and although not so high -as its neighbour, it was more conspicuous, and seen from a distance -appeared to be vastly higher. The reason of this was that it was -crowned with a grove of Scotch firs with boles that rose straight and -smooth and mast-like to a height of about eighty feet; thus, seen -from afar, the hill looked about a hundred feet higher than it -actually was, the tree-tops themselves forming a thick, round dome, -conspicuous above the surrounding forest, and Wolmer's most prominent -feature. I have often said of Hampshire--very many persons have said -the same--that it lacks one thing--sublimity, or, let us say, -grandeur. I have been over all its high, open down country, and upon -all its highest hills, which, although rising to a thousand feet -above the sea at one point, yet do not impress one so much as the -South Downs; and I have been in all its forest lands, which have -wildness and a thousand beauties, and one asks for nothing better. -But the Hollywater Clump in Wolmer Forest as soon as I come in sight -of it wakes in me another sense and feeling; and I have found in -conversation with others on this subject that they are affected in -the same way. I doubt if anyone can fail to experience such a -feeling when looking on that great hill-top grove, a stupendous -pillared temple, with its dome-like black roof against the sky, -standing high above and dominating the sombre pine and heath country -for miles around. - -{210} - -[Sidenote: Bird life in the forest] - -Gilbert White described Wolmer as a naked heath with very few trees -growing on it. The Hollywater Clump must, one cannot but think, have -been planted before or during his time. One old native of Wolmer, -whose memory over five years ago went back about sixty years, assured -me that the trees looked just as big when he was a little boy as they -do now. Undoubtedly they are very old, and many, we see, are -decaying, and some are dead, and for many years past they have been -dying and falling. - -The green woodpecker had discovered the unsoundness of many of them; -in some of the trunks, in their higher part, the birds had made -several holes. These were in line, one above the other, like stops -in a flute. Most of these far-up houses or flats were tenanted by -starlings. This was only too apparent for the starling, although -neat and glossy in his dress is an untidy tenant, and smears the -trunk beneath the entrance to his nest with numberless droppings. -You might fancy that he had set himself to whitewash his tenement, -and had carelessly capsized his little bucket of lime on the -threshold. - -It was pleasant in the late afternoon to sit at the feet of these -stately red columns--this brave company of trees, that are warred -against by all the winds of heaven--and look upon the black legions -of the forest covering the earth beneath them for miles. High up in -the swaying, singing tops a kind of musical talk was audible--the -starlings' medley of clinking, chattering, wood-sawing, -knife-grinding, whistling, and bell-like sounds. Higher still, above -{211} the tree-tops, the jackdaws were at their aerial gambols, -calling to one another, exulting in the wind. They were not breeding -there, but were attracted to the spot by the height of the hill, with -its crown of soaring trees. Some strong-flying birds--buzzards, -kites, vultures, gulls, and many others--love to take their exercise -far from earth, making a playground of the vast void heaven. The -wind-loving jackdaw, even in his freest, gladdest moments, never -wholly breaks away from the earth, and for a playground prefers some -high, steep place--a hill, cliff, spire, or tower--where he can perch -at intervals, and from which he can launch himself, as the impulse -takes him, either to soar and float above, or to cast himself down -into the airy gulf below. - -Stray herons, too, come to the trees to roost. The great bird could -be seen far off, battling with the wind, rising and falling, blown to -this side and that, now displaying his pale under-surface, and now -the slaty blue of his broad, slow-flapping wings. - -As the sun sank nearer to the horizon, the tall trunks would catch -the level beams and shine like fiery pillars, and the roof thus -upheld would look darker and gloomier by contrast. With the passing -of that red light, the lively bird-notes would cease, the trees would -give forth a more solemn, sea-like sound, and the day would end. - -My days, during all the time I spent at Wolmer, when I had given up -asking questions, and my poor old woman had ceased cudgelling her -brains for lost memories, were spent with the birds. The yaffle, -{212} nightjar, and turtle-dove were the most characteristic species. -Wolmer is indeed the metropolis of the turtle-doves, even as -Savernake is (or was) that of the jays and jackdaws. All day long -the woods were full of the low, pleasing sound of their cooing: as -one walked among the pines they constantly rose up in small flocks -from the ground with noisy wines and as they flew out into some open -space to vanish again in the dark foliage, their wings in the strong -sunlight often looked white as silver. But the only native species I -wish to speak of is the teal as I found it a little over five years -ago. In Wolmer these pretty entertaining little ducks have bred -uninterruptedly for centuries, but I greatly fear that the changes -now in progress--the increase of the population, building, the large -number of troops kept close by, and perhaps, too, the slow drying up -of the marshy pools--will cause them to forsake their ancient haunts. - -[Sidenote: Teal] - -By chance I very soon discovered their choicest breeding-place, not -far from that dome-shaped, fir-crowned hill which was my principal -landmark. This was a boggy place, thirty or forty acres in extent -surrounded by trees and overgrown with marsh weeds and grasses, and -in places with rushes. Cotton grass grew in the drier parts, and the -tufts nodding in the wind looked at a distance like silvery white -flowers. At one end of the marsh there were clumps of willow and -alder, where the reed-bunting was breeding and the grasshopper -warbler uttered his continuous whirring sound, which seemed to accord -{213} with the singing of the wind in the pines. At the other end -there was open water with patches of rushes growing in it; and here -at the water's edge, shaded by a small fir, I composed myself on a -bed of heather to watch the birds. - -The inquisitive moor-hens were the first to appear, uttering from -time to time their sharp, loud protest. Their suspicion lessened by -degrees, but was never wholly laid aside; and one bird, slyly leaving -the water, made a wide circuit and approached me through the trees in -order to get a better view of me. A sudden movement on my part, when -he was only three yards from me, gave him a terrible fright. -Mallards showed themselves at intervals, swimming into the open -water, or rising a few yards above the rushes, then dropping out of -sight again. Where the rushes grew thin and scattered, ducklings -appeared, swimming one behind the other, busily engaged in snatching -insects from the surface. By-and-by a pair of teal rose up, flew -straight towards me, and dropped into the open water within eighteen -yards of where I sat. They were greatly excited, and no sooner -touched the water than they began calling loudly; then, from various -points, others rose and hurried to join them, and in a few moments -there were eleven, all disporting themselves on the water at that -short distance. Teal are always tamer than ducks of other kinds, but -the tameness of these Wolmer birds was astonishing and very -delightful. For a few moments I imagined they were excited at my -presence, but it very soon appeared that they were entirely absorbed -{214} in their own affairs and cared nothing about me. What a -wonderfully lively, passionate, variable, and even ridiculous little -creature the teal is! Compared with his great relations--swans, -geese, and the bigger ducks--he is like a monkey or squirrel among -stately bovine animals. Now the teal have a world-wide range, being -found in all climates, and are of many species; they are, moreover, -variable in plumage, some species having an exceedingly rich and -beautiful colouring; but wherever found, and however different in -colour, they are much the same in disposition--they are loquacious, -excitable, violent in their affections beyond other ducks, and, -albeit highly intelligent, more fearless than other birds habitually -persecuted by man. A sedate teal is as rare as a sober-coloured -humming-bird. The teal is also of so social a temper that even in -the height of the breeding season he is accustomed to meet his -fellows at little gatherings. A curious thing is that at these -meetings they do not, like most social birds, fall into one mind, and -comport themselves in an orderly, disciplined manner, all being moved -by one contagious impulse. On the contrary, each bird appears to -have an impulse of his own, and to follow it without regard to what -his fellows may be doing. One must have his bath, another his -frolic; one falls to courting, another to quarrelling, or even -fighting, and so on, and the result is a lively splashing, confused -performance, which is amusing to see. It was an exhibition of this -kind which I was so fortunate as to witness at the Wolmer pond. The -body-jerking {215} antics and rich, varied plumage of the drakes gave -them a singular as well as a beautiful appearance; and as they dashed -and splashed about, sometimes not more than fourteen yards from me, -their motions were accompanied by all the cries and calls they -have--their loud call, which is a bright and lively sound; -chatterings and little, sharp, exclamatory notes; a long trill, -somewhat metallic or bell-like; and a sharp, nasal cry, rapidly -reiterated several times, like a laugh. - -After they had worked off their excitement and finished their fun -they broke up into pairs and threes, and went off in various -directions, and I saw no more of them. - -It was not until the sun had set that a snipe appeared. First one -rose from the marsh and began to play over it in the usual manner, -then another rose to keep him company, and finally a third. Most of -the time they hovered with their breasts towards me, and seen through -my glass against the pale luminous sky, their round, stout bodies, -long bills, and short, rapidly vibrating wings, gave them the -appearance of gigantic insects rather than birds. - -[Sidenote: Boys in the forest] - -At length, tired of watching them, I stretched myself out in the -ling, but continued listening, and while thus occupied an amusing -incident occurred. A flock of eighteen mallards rose up with a -startled cry from the marsh at a distance, and after flying once or -twice round, dropped down again. Then the sound of crackling -branches and of voices talking {216} became audible advancing round -the marsh towards me. It was the first human sound I had heard that -day at that spot. Then the sounds ceased, and after a couple of -minutes of silence I glanced round in the direction they had -proceeded from, and beheld a curious sight. Three boys, one about -twelve years old, the others smaller, were grouped together on the -edge of the pool, gazing fixedly across the water at me. They had -taken me for a corpse, or an escaped criminal, or some such dreadful -object, lying there in the depth of the forest. The biggest boy had -dropped on to one knee among the rough heather, while the others, -standing on either side, were resting their hands on his shoulders. -Seen thus, in their loose, threadbare, grey clothes and caps, struck -motionless, their white, scared faces, parted lips, and wildly -staring eyes turned to me, they were like a group cut in stone. I -laughed and waved my hand to them, whereupon their faces relaxed, and -they immediately dropped into natural attitudes. Very soon they -moved away among the trees, but after eight or ten minutes they -reappeared near me, and finally, from motives of curiosity, came -uninvited to my side. They proved to be very good specimens of the -boy naturalist; thorough little outlaws, with keen senses, and the -passion for wildness strong in them. They told me that when they -went bird-nesting they made a day of it, taking bread and cheese in -their pockets, and not returning till the evening. For an hour we -talked in the fading light of day on the wild creatures in the -forest, until we could no {217} longer endure the cloud of gnats that -had gathered round us. - - -About three years after the visit to Wolmer I made the acquaintance -of a native of Selborne, whose father had taken part as a lad in the -famous "Selborne mob," and who confirmed the story I had heard about -the horn-blower, whose name was Newland. He had been a soldier in -his early manhood before he returned to his native village and -married the widow who bore him so many children. It was quite true -that he had died at home, in bed, and what was more, he added, he was -buried just between the church porch and the yew, where he was all by -himself. How he came to be buried there he did not know. - -Lately, in October 1902, I heard the finish of the story. I found an -old woman, a widow named Garnett, an elder sister of the woman at -Wolmer Forest. She is eighty years old, but was not born until a -year or two after the "Selborne mob" events, which fixes the date of -that outbreak about the year 1820. She has a brother, now in a -workhouse, about two years older than herself, who was a babe in arms -at that time. When Newland was at last captured and sent to -Winchester, his poor wife, with her baby in her arms, set out on foot -to visit him in gaol. It was a long tramp for her thus burdened, and -it was also in the depth of one of the coldest winters ever known. -She started early, but did not get to her destination until the -following morning, and not {218} without suffering a fresh misfortune -by the way. Before dawn, when the cold was most intense, while -walking over Winchester Hill, her baby's nose was frozen; and though -everything proper was done when she arrived at the houses, it never -got quite right. His injured nose, which turns to a dark-blue colour -and causes him great suffering in cold weather, has been a trouble -and misery to him all his life long. - -[Sidenote: Story of the horn-blower] - -Newland, we know, was forgiven and returned to spend the rest of his -life in his village, where he died at last of sheer old age, passing -very quietly away after receiving the sacrament from the vicar, and -in the presence of his faithful old wife and his children and -grandchildren. - -After he was dead, two of his children--my informant, and that -brother who as a babe had travelled to Winchester in his mother's -arms in cold weather--talked together about him and his life, and of -all he had suffered and of his goodness, and in both their minds -there was one idea, an anxious wish that his descendants should not -allow him to go out of memory. And there was no way known to them to -keep him in mind except by burying him in some spot by himself, where -his mound would be alone and apart. Finally, brother and sister, -plucking up courage, went to the vicar, the well-remembered Mr. -Parsons, who built the new vicarage and the church school, and begged -him to let them bury their father by the yew tree near the porch, and -he good-naturedly consented. - -That was how Newland came to be buried at that {219} spot; but before -many days the vicar went to them in a great state of mind, and said -that he had made a terrible mistake, that he had done wrong in -consenting to the grave being made there, and that their father must -be taken up and placed at some other spot in the churchyard. They -were grieved at this, but could say nothing. But for some reason the -removal never took place, and in time the son and daughter themselves -began to regret that they had buried their father there where they -could never keep the mound green and fresh. People going in or -coming out of church on dark evenings stumbled or kicked their boots -against it, or when they stood there talking to each other they would -rest a foot on it, and romping children sat on it, so that it always -had a ragged, unkept appearance, do what they would. - -It is certainly an unsightly mound. It would be better to do away -with it, and to substitute a small memorial stone with a suitable -inscription placed level with the turf. - - - - -{220} - -CHAPTER XI - -The Hampshire people--Racial differences in neighbouring counties--A -neglected subject--Inhabitants of towns--Gentry and peasantry--Four -distinct types--The common blonde type--Lean women--Deleterious -effects of tea-drinking--A shepherd's testimony--A mixed race--The -Anglo-Saxon--Case of reversion of type--Un-Saxon character of the -British--Dark-eyed Hampshire people--Racial feeling with regard to -eye-colours--The Iberian type--Its persistence--Character of the -small dark man--Dark and blonde children--A dark village child. - - -The history of the horn-blower and his old wife, and their still -living aged children, serves to remind me that this book, which -contains so much about all sorts of creatures and forms of life, from -spiders and flies to birds and beasts, and from red alga on -gravestones to oaks and yews, has so far had almost nothing to say -about our own species--of that variety which inhabits Hampshire. - -[Sidenote: Racial differences] - -If the critical reader asks what is here meant by "variety," what -should I answer him? On going directly from any other district in -southern England to the central parts of Hampshire one is sensible of -a difference in the people. One is still in southern England, and -the peasantry, like the atmosphere, climate, soil, the quiet but -verdurous and varied scenery, are more or less like those of other -neighbouring counties--Surrey, Sussex, Kent, Berkshire, {221} Wilts, -and Dorset. In general appearance, at all events, the people are -much the same; and the dialect, where any survives, and even the -quality of the voices, closely resemble those in adjoining counties. -Nevertheless there is a difference; even the hasty seers who are -almost without the faculty of observation are vaguely cognisant of -it, though they would not be able to say what it consisted in. -Probably it would puzzle anyone to say wherein Hampshire differed -from all the counties named, since each has something individual; -therefore it would be better to compare Hampshire with some one -county near it, or with a group of neighbouring counties in which -some family resemblance is traceable. Somerset, Devon, Wilts, and -Dorset--these answer the description, and I leave out Cornwall only -because its people are unknown to me. The four named have seemed to -me the most interesting counties in southern England; but if I were -to make them five by adding Hampshire, the verdict of nine persons -out of ten, all equally well acquainted with the five, would probably -be that it was the least interesting. They would probably say that -the people of Hampshire were less good-looking, that they had less -red colour in their skins, less pure colour in their eyes; that they -had less energy, if not less intelligence, or at all events were less -lively, and had less humour. - -These differences between the inhabitants of neighbouring and of -adjoining counties are doubtless in some measure due to local -conditions, of soil, climate, {222} food, customs, and so on, acting -for long generations on a stay-at-home people: but the main -differences are undoubtedly racial; and here we are on a subject in -which we poor ordinary folk who want to know are like sheep wandering -shepherdless in some wilderness, bleating in vain for guidance in a -maze of fleece-tearing brambles. It is true that the ethnologists -and anthropologists triumphantly point out that the Jute type of man -may be recognised in the Isle of Wight, and in a less degree even in -the Meon district; for the rest, with a wave of the hand to indicate -the northern half of the county, they say that all that is or ought -to be more or less Anglo-Saxon. That's all; since, as they tell us, -the affinities of the South Hampshire people, of the New Forest -district especially, have not yet been worked out. Not being an -anthropologist I can't help them; and am even inclined to think that -they have left undone some of the things which they ought to have -done. The complaint was made in a former chapter that we had no -monograph on fleas to help us; it may be made, too, with regard to -the human race in Hampshire. The most that one can do in such a -case, since man cannot be excluded from the subjects which concern -the naturalist, is to record one's own poor little unscientific -observations, and let them go for what they are worth. - -[Sidenote: Gentry and peasantry] - -There is little profit in looking at the townspeople. The big coast -towns have a population quite as heterogeneous as that of the -metropolis; even in a comparatively small rural inland town, like -Winchester, {223} one would be puzzled to say what the chief -characteristics of the people were. You may feel in a vague way that -they are unlike the people of, say, Guildford, or Canterbury, or -Reading, or Dorchester, but the variety in forms and faces is too -great to allow of any definite idea. The only time when the people -even in a town can be studied to advantage in places like Winchester, -Andover, etc., is on a market day, or on a Saturday afternoon, when -the villagers come in to do their marketing. I have said, in writing -of Somerset and its people, that the gentry, the landowners, and the -wealthy residents generally, are always in a sense foreigners. The -man may bear a name which has been for many generations in a county, -but he is never racially one with the peasant; and, as John Bright -once said, it is the people who live in cottages that make the -nation. His parents and his grandparents and his ancestors for -centuries have been mixing their blood with the blood of outsiders. -It is well always to bear this in mind, and in the market-place or -the High Street of the country town to see the carriage people, the -gentry, and the important ones generally as though one saw them not, -or saw them as shadows, and to fix the attention on those who in face -and carriage and dress proclaim themselves true natives and children -of the soil. - -Even so there will be variety enough--a little more perhaps than is -wanted by the methodic mind anxious to classify these "insect -tribes." But after a time--a few months or a few years, let us {224} -say--the observer will perceive that the majority of the people are -divisible into four fairly distinct types, the minority being -composed of intermediate forms and of nondescripts. There is an -enormous disproportion in the actual numbers of the people of these -distinct types, and it varies greatly in different parts of the -county. Of the Hampshire people it may be said generally, as we say -of the whole nation, that there are two types--the blonde and the -dark; but in this part of England there are districts where a larger -proportion of dark blood than is common in England generally has -produced a well-marked intermediate type; and this is one of my four -distinct Hampshire types. I should place it second in importance, -although it comes a very long way after the first type, which is -distinctly blonde. - -[Sidenote: Common blonde type] - -This first most prevalent type, which greatly outnumbers all the -others put together, and probably includes more than half of the -entire population, is strongest in the north, and extends across the -county from Sussex to Wiltshire. The Hampshire people in that -district are hardly to be distinguished from those of Berkshire. One -can see this best by looking at the school-children in a number of -North Hampshire and Berkshire villages. In sixty or seventy to a -hundred and fifty children in a village school you will seldom find -as many as a dozen with dark eyes. - -As was said in a former chapter, there is very little beauty or good -looks in this people; on the other hand, there is just as little -downright ugliness; they are mostly on a rather monotonous level, -just {225} passable in form and features, but with an almost entire -absence of any brightness, physical or mental. Take the best-looking -woman of this most common type--the description will fit a dozen in -any village. She is of medium height, and has a slightly oval face -(which, being Anglo-Saxon, she ought not to have), with fairly good -features; a nose fairly straight, or slightly aquiline, and not -small; mouth well moulded, but the lips too thin; chin frequently -pointed. Her hair is invariably brown, without any red or chestnut -colour in it, generally of a dull or dusty hue; and the eyes are a -pale greyish-blue, with small pupils, and in very many cases a dark -mark round the iris. The deep blue, any pure blue, in fact, from -forget-me-not to ultramarine, is as rare in this commonest type as -warm or bright hair--chestnut, red, or gold; or as a brilliant skin. -The skin is pallid, or dusky, or dirty-looking. Even healthy girls -in their teens seldom have any colour, and the exquisite roseate and -carmine reds of other counties are rare indeed. The best-looking -girls at the time of life when they come nearest to being pretty, -when they are just growing into womanhood, have an unfinished look -which is almost pathetic. One gets the fancy that Nature had meant -to make them nice-looking, and finally becoming dissatisfied with her -work, left them to grow to maturity anyhow. It is pathetic, because -there was little more to be done--a rosier blush on the cheek, a -touch of scarlet on the lips, a little brightness and elasticity in -the hair, a pencil of sunlight to make the eyes sparkle. - -{226} - -In figure this woman is slim, too narrow across the hips, too flat in -the chest. And she grows thinner with years. The number of lean, -pale women of this type in Hampshire is very remarkable. You see -them in every village, women that appear almost fleshless, with a -parchment-like skin drawn tight over the bones of the face, -pale-blue, washed-out eyes, and thin, dead-looking hair. What is the -reason of this leanness? It may be that the women of this blonde -type are more subject to poverty of blood than others; for the men, -though often thin, are not so excessively thin as the women. Or it -may be the effect of that kind of poison which cottage women all over -the country are becoming increasingly fond of, and which is having so -deleterious an effect on the people in many counties--the tea they -drink. Poison it certainly is: two or three cups a day of the black -juice which they obtain by boiling and brewing the coarse Indian teas -at a shilling a pound which they use, would kill me in less than a -week. - -Or it may be partly the poison of tea and partly the bad conditions, -especially the want of proper food, in the villages. One day on the -downs near Winchester I found a shepherd with his flock, a man of -about fifty, and as healthy and strong-looking a fellow as I have -seen in Hampshire. Why was it, I asked him, that he was the only man -of his village I had seen with the colour of red blood in his face? -why did they look so unwholesome generally? why were the women so -thin, and the children so stunted {227} and colourless? He said he -didn't know, but thought that for one thing they did not get enough -to eat. "On the farm where I work," he said, "there are twelve of -us--nine men, all married, and three boys. My wages are thirteen -shillings, with a cottage and garden; I have no children, and I -neither drink nor smoke, and have not done so for eighteen years. -Yet I find the money is not too much. Of the others, the eight -married men all have children--one has got six at home: they all -smoke, and all make a practice of spending at least two evenings each -week at the public-house." How, after paying for beer and tobacco, -they could support their families on the few shillings that remained -out of their wages was a puzzle to him. - -[Sidenote: A mixed race] - -But this is to digress. The prevalent blonde type I have tried to -describe is best seen in the northern half of the county, but is not -so accentuated on the east, north, and west borders as in the -interior villages. If, as is commonly said, this people is -Anglo-Saxon, it must at some early period have mixed its blood with -that of a distinctly different race. This may have been the Belgic -or Brythonic, but as shape and face are neither Celtic nor Saxon, the -Brythons must have already been greatly modified by some older and -different race which they, or the Goidels before them, had conquered -and absorbed. It will be necessary to return to this point by-and-by. - -Side by side with this, in a sense, dim and doubtful people, you find -the unmistakable Saxon, the thick-set, {228} heavy-looking, -round-headed man with blue eyes and light hair, and heavy drooping -mustachios--a sort of terrestrial walrus who goes erect. He is not -abundant as in Sussex, but is represented in almost any village, and -in these villages he is always like a bull-dog or bull-terrier among -hounds, lurchers, and many other varieties, including curs of low -degree. Mentally, he is rather a dull dog, at all events deficient -in the finer, more attractive qualities. Leaving aside the spiritual -part, he is a good all-round man, tough and stubborn, one that the -naturalist may have no secret qualms about in treating as an animal. -A being of strong animal nature, and too often in this brewer-ridden -county a hard drinker. A very large proportion of the men in rural -towns and villages with blotchy skins and watery or beery eyes are of -this type. Even more offensive than the animality, the mindlessness, -is that flicker of conscious superiority which lives in their -expression. It is, I fancy, a survival of the old instinctive -feeling of a conquering race amid the conquered. - -[Sidenote: Reversion of type] - -Nature, we know, is everlastingly harking back, but here in Hampshire -I cannot but think that this type, in spite of its very marked -characters, is a very much muddied and degenerate form. One is led -to this conclusion by occasionally meeting with an individual whose -whole appearance is a revelation, and strikes the mind with a kind of -astonishment, and one can only exclaim--there is nothing else to -say--Here Nature has at length succeeded in reproducing the pure -unadulterated form! Such a {229} type I came upon one summer day on -the high downs east of the Itchen. - -He was a shepherd, a young fellow of twenty, about five feet eight in -height, but looking short on account of his extraordinary breadth of -shoulders and depth of chest. His arms were like a blacksmith's, and -his legs thick, and his big head was round as a Dutch cheese. He -could, I imagined, have made a breach in the stone wall near which I -found him with his flock, if he had lowered that hard round head and -charged like a rhinoceros. His hair was light brown, and his face a -uniform rosy brown--in all Hampshire no man nor woman had I seen so -beautiful in colour; and his round, keen, piercing eyes were of a -wonderful blue--"eyes like the sea." If this poor fellow, washed -clean and clothed becomingly in white flannels, had shown himself in -some great gathering at the Oval or some such place on some great -day, the common people would have parted on either side to make way -for him, and would have regarded him with a kind of worship--an -impulse to kneel before him. There, on the downs, his appearance was -almost grotesque in the dress he wore, made of some fabric intended -to last for ever, but now frayed, worn to threads in places, and -generally earth-coloured. A small old cap, earth-coloured too, -covered a portion of his big, round head, and his ancient, lumpish, -cracked and clouted boots were like the hoofs of some extinct large -sort of horse which he had found fossilised among the chalk hills. -He had but eleven shillings {230} a week, and could not afford to -spend much on dress. How he could get enough to eat was a puzzle; he -looked as if he could devour half of one of his muttons at a meal, -washed down with a bucket of beer, without hurt to his digestion. In -appearance he formed a startling contrast to the people around him: -they were in comparison a worn-out, weary-looking race, dim-eyed, -pale-faced, slow in their movements, as if they had lost all joy and -interest in life. - -The sight of him taught me something I could not get from the books. -The intensity of life in his eyes and whole expression; the -rough-hewn face and rude, powerful form--rude but well balanced--the -vigour in his every movement, enabled me to realise better than -anything that history tells us what those men who came as strangers -to these shores in the fifth century were really like, and how they -could do what they did. They came, a few at a time, in open -row-boats, with nothing but their rude weapons in their hands, and by -pure muscular force, and because they were absolutely without fear -and without compassion, and were mentally but little above a herd of -buffaloes, they succeeded in conquering a great and populous country -with centuries of civilisation behind it. - -Talking with him, I was not surprised to find him a discontented man. -He did not want to live in a town--he seemed not to know just what he -wanted, or having but few words he did not know how to say it; but -his mind was in a state of turmoil and revolt, and he could only -curse the head shepherd, {231} the bailiff, the farmer, and, to -finish up, the lord of the manor. Probably he soon cast away his -crook, and went off in search of some distant place, where he would -be permitted to discharge the energy that seethed and bubbled in -him--perhaps to bite the dust on the African veldt. - -This, then, is one of the main facts to be noted in the blonde -Hampshire peasant--the great contrast between the small minority of -persons of the Anglo-Saxon and of the prevalent type. It was long -ago shown by Huxley that the English people generally are not Saxons -in the shape of the head, and in all Saxon England the divergence has -perhaps been greatest in this southern county. The oval-faced type, -as I have said, is less pronounced as we approach the borders of -Berkshire, and although the difference is not very great, it is quite -perceptible; the Berkshire people are rather nearer to the common -modified Saxon type of Oxfordshire and the Midlands generally. - -[Sidenote: Dark Hampshire people] - -In the southern half of Hampshire the dark-eyed, black-haired people -are almost as common as the blonde, and in some localities they are -actually in a majority. Visitors to the New Forest district often -express astonishment at the darkness and "foreign" appearance of the -people, and they sometimes form the mistaken idea that it is due to a -strong element of gipsy blood. The darkest Hampshire peasant is -always in shape of head and face the farthest removed from the gipsy -type. - -Among the dark people there are two distinct {232} types, as there -are two in the blonde, and it will be understood that I only mean two -that are, in a measure, fixed and easily recognised types; for it -must always be borne in mind that, outside of these distinctive -forms, there is a heterogeneous crowd of persons of all shades and -shapes of face and of great variety in features. These two dark -types are: First, the small, narrow-headed person of brown skin, -crow-black hair, and black eyes; of this rarest and most interesting -type I shall speak last. Second, the person of average height, -slightly oval face, and dark eyes and hair. The accompanying -portrait of a young woman in a village on the Test is a good specimen -of this type. Now we find that this dark-haired, dark-eyed, and -often dark-skinned people are in stature, figure, shape of head, and -features exactly like the oval-faced blonde people already {233} -described. They are, light and dark, an intermediate type, and we -can only say that they are one and the same people, the outcome of a -long-mixed race which has crystallised in this form unlike any of its -originals; that the difference in colour is due to the fact that blue -and black in the iris and black and brown in the hair very seldom -mix, these colours being, as has been said, "mutually exclusive." -They persist when everything else, down to the bony framework, has -been modified and the original racial characters obliterated. -Nevertheless, we see that these mutually exclusive colours do mix in -some individuals both in the eyes and hair. In the grey-blue iris it -appears as a very slight pigmentation, in most cases round the pupil, -but in the hair it is more marked. Many, perhaps a majority, of the -dark-eyed people we are now considering have some warm brown colour -in their black hair; in members of the same family you will often -find raven-black hair and brownish-black hair; and sometimes in three -brothers or sisters you will find the two original colours, black and -brown, and the intermediate very dark or brownish-black hair. - -[Illustration: A HAMPSHIRE GIRL] - -The brunette of this oval-faced type is also, as we have seen, -deficient in colour, but, as a rule, she is more attractive than her -light-eyed sister. This may be due to the appearance of a greater -intensity of life in the dark eye; but it is also probable that there -is almost always some difference in disposition, that black or dark -pigment is correlated with a warmer, quicker, more sympathetic -nature. The anthropologists tell us that very slight differences in -intensity {234} of pigmentation may correspond to relatively very -great constitutional differences. One fact in reference to dark- and -light-coloured people which I came upon in Hampshire, struck me as -exceedingly curious, and has suggested the question: Is there in us, -or in some of us, very deep down, and buried out of sight, but still -occasionally coming to life and to the surface, an ancient feeling of -repulsion or racial antipathy between black and blonde? Are there -mental characteristics, too, that are "mutually exclusive"? Dark and -light are mixed in very many of us, but, as Huxley has said, the -constituents do not always rightly mix: as a rule, one side is -strongest. With the dark side strongest in me, I search myself, and -the only evidence I find of such a feeling is an ineradicable dislike -of the shallow frosty blue eye: it makes me shiver, and seems to -indicate a cold, petty, spiteful, and false nature. This may be -merely a fancy or association, the colour resembling that of the -frosty sky in winter. In many others the feeling appears to be more -definite. I know blue-eyed persons of culture, liberal-minded, -religious, charitable, lovers of all men, who declare that they -cannot regard dark-eyed persons as being on the same level, morally, -with the blue-eyed, and that they cannot dissociate black eyes from -wickedness. This, too, may be fancy or association. But here in -Hampshire I have been startled at some things I have heard spoken by -dark-eyed people about blondes. Not of the mitigated Hampshire -blonde, with that dimness in the colour of his skin, and eyes, and -hair, but of the more vivid {235} type with brighter blue eyes, and -brighter or more fiery hair, and the light skin to match. What I -have heard was to this effect: - -"Perhaps it will be all right in the end--we hope it will: he says he -will marry her and give her a home. But you never know where you are -with a man of that colour--I'll believe it when I see it." - -"Yes, he seems all right, and speaks well, and promises to pay the -money. But look at the colour of his eyes! No, I can't trust him." - -"He's a very nice person, I have no doubt, but his eyes and hair are -enough for me," etc., etc. - -Even this may be merely the effect of that enmity or suspicion with -which the stranger, or "foreigner," as he is called, is often -regarded in rural districts. The person from another county, or from -a distance, unrelated to anyone in the community, is always a -foreigner, and the foreign taint may descend to the children: may it -not be that in Hampshire anyone with bright colour in eyes, hair, and -skin is also by association regarded as a foreigner? - -It remains to speak of the last of the four distinct types, the least -common and most interesting of all--the small, narrow-headed man with -very black hair, black eyes, and brown skin. - -We are deeply indebted to the anthropologists who have, so to speak, -torn up the books of history, and are re-telling the story of man on -earth: we admire them for their patient industry, and because they -have gone bravely on with their self-appointed task, one peculiarly -difficult in this land of many {236} mixed races, heedless of the -scoffs of the learned or of those who derive their learning from -books alone, and mock at men whose documents are "bones and skins." -But we sometimes see that they (the anthropologists) have not yet -wholly emancipated themselves from the old written falsehoods when -they tell us, as they frequently do, that the Iberian in this country -survives only in the west and the north. They refer to the small, -swarthy Welshman; to the so-called "black Celt" in Ireland, west of -the Shannon; to the small black Yorkshireman of the Dales, and to the -small black Highlander; and the explanation is that in these -localities remnants of the dark men of the Iberian race who inhabited -Britain in the Neolithic period, were never absorbed by the -conquerors; that, in fact, like the small existing herds of -indigenous white cattle, they have preserved their peculiar physical -character down to the present time by remaining unmixed with the -surrounding blue-eyed people. But this type is not confined to these -isolated spots in the west and north; it is found here, there, and -everywhere, especially in the southern counties of England: you -cannot go about among the peasants of Hampshire, Wiltshire, and -Dorset without meeting examples of it, and here at all events, it -cannot be said that the ancient British people were not absorbed. -They, the remnant that escaped extermination, were absorbed by the -blue-eyed, broad-headed, tall men, the Goidels we suppose, who -occupied the country at the beginning of the Bronze Age; and the -absorbers were in their {237} turn absorbed by another blue-eyed -race; and these by still another or by others. The only explanation -appears to be that this type is persistent beyond all others, and -that a very little black blood, after being mixed and re-mixed with -blonde for centuries, even for hundreds of generations, may, whenever -the right conditions occur, reproduce the vanished type in its -original form. - -Time brings about its revenges in many strange ways: we see that -there is a continuous and an increasing migration from Wales and the -Highlands into all the big towns in England, and this large and -growing Celtic element will undoubtedly have a great effect on the -population in time, making it less Saxon and more Celtic than it has -been these thousand years past and upwards. But in all the people, -Celtic, Anglo-Saxon, Dane, or what not, there is that older -constituent--infinitely older and perhaps infinitely more persistent; -and this too, albeit in a subtler way, may be working in us to -recover its long-lost world. That it has gone far in this direction -in Spain, where the blue eye is threatened with extinction, and in -the greater portion, if not all, of France, there appears to be some -evidence to show. Here, where the Neolithic people were more nearly -exterminated and the remnant more completely absorbed, the return may -be very much slower. But when we find, as we do in Hampshire and -many other counties, that this constituent in the blood of the -people, after mixture for untold ages with so many other bloods of so -many {238} conquering races, has not only been potent to modify the -entire population, but is able to reproduce the old type in its -pristine purity; and when we almost invariably find that these -ancients born again are better men than those in whom other racial -characters predominate--more intelligent, versatile, adaptive, -temperate, and usually tougher and longer lived, it becomes possible -to believe that in the remote future--there are thousands of years -for this little black leaven to work--these islands will once more be -inhabited by a race of men of the Neolithic type. - -In speaking of the character, physical and mental, of the men of -distinctly Iberian type, I must confess that I write only from my own -observation, and that I am hardly justified in founding general -statements on an acquaintance with a very limited number of persons. -My experience is that the men of this type have, generally speaking, -more character than their neighbours, and are certainly very much -more interesting. In recalling individuals of the peasant class who -have most attracted me, with whom I have become intimate and in some -instances formed lasting friendships, I find that of twenty-five to -thirty no fewer than nine are of this type. Of this number four are -natives of Hampshire, while the other five, oddly enough, belong to -five different counties. But I do not judge only from these few -individuals: a rambler about the country who seldom stays many days -in one village or spot cannot become intimately acquainted with the -cottagers. I judge partly from the few I know well, and partly from -a {239} very much larger number of individuals I have met casually or -have known slightly. What I am certain of is that the men of this -type, as a rule, differ mentally as widely as they do physically from -persons of other commoner types. The Iberian, as I know him in -southern and south-western England, is, as I have said, more -intelligent, or at all events, quicker; his brains are nimbler -although perhaps not so retentive or so practical as the slower -Saxon's. Apart from that point, he has more imagination, detachment, -sympathy--the qualities which attract and make you glad to know a man -and to form a friendship with him in whatever class he may be. Why -is it, one is sometimes asked, that one can often know and talk with -a Spaniard or Frenchman without any feeling of class distinction, any -consciousness of a barrier, although the man may be nothing but a -workman, while with English peasants this freedom and ease between -man and man is impossible? It is possible in the case of the man we -are considering, simply because of those qualities I have named, -which he shares with those of his own race on the Continent. - -I have found that when one member of a family of mixed light and dark -blood is of the distinctly Iberian type, this one will almost -invariably take a peculiar and in some ways a superior position in -the circle. The woman especially exhibits a liveliness, humour, and -variety rare indeed among persons born in the peasant class. She -entertains the visitor, or takes the leading part, and her -slow-witted sisters {240} regard her with a kind of puzzled -admiration. They are sisters, yet unrelated: their very blood -differs in specific gravity, and their bodily differences correspond -to a mental and spiritual unlikeness. In my intercourse with people -in the southern counties I have sometimes been reminded of Huxley and -his account of his parents contained in a private letter to Havelock -Ellis. His father, he said, was a fresh-coloured, grey-eyed -Warwickshire man. "My mother came of Wiltshire people. Except for -being somewhat taller than the average type, she was a typical -example of the Iberian variety--dark, thin, rapid in all her ways, -and with the most piercing black eyes I have seen in anybody's head. -Mentally and physically (except in the matter of the beautiful eyes) -I am a piece of my mother, and except for my stature ... I should do -very well for a 'black Celt'--supposed to be the worst variety of -that type." - -The contrast between persons of this type and Saxon or blonde has -often seemed to me greatest in childhood, since the blonde at that -period, even in Hampshire, is apt to be a delicate pink and white -whereas the individual of strongly-marked Iberian character is very -dark from birth. I will, to conclude this perhaps imprudent chapter, -give an instance in point. - -[Sidenote: A dark village child] - -Walking one day through the small rustic village of Martyr Worthy, -near Winchester, I saw a little girl of nine or ten sitting on the -grass at the side of the wide green roadway in the middle of the -village engaged in binding flowers round her hat. She was {241} -slim, and had a thin oval face, dark in colour as any dark Spanish -child, or any French child in the "black provinces"; and she had, -too, the soft melancholy black eye which is the chief beauty of the -Spanish, and her loose hair was intensely black. Even here where -dark eyes and dark hair are so common, her darkness was wonderful by -contrast with a second little girl of round, chubby, rosy face, -pale-yellowish hair, and wide-open blue surprised eyes, who stood by -her side watching her at her task. The flowers were lying in a heap -at her side; she had wound a long slender spray of traveller's joy -round her brown straw hat, and was now weaving in lychnis and -veronica, with other small red and blue blossoms, to improve her -garland. I found to my surprise on questioning her that she knew the -names of the flowers she had collected. An English village child, -but in that Spanish darkness and beauty, and in her grace and her -pretty occupation, how very un-English she seemed! - - - - -{242} - -CHAPTER XII - -Test and Itchen--Vegetation--Riverside villages--The cottage by the -river--Itchen valley--Blossoming limes--Bird -visitors--Goldfinch--Cirl bunting--Song--Plumage--Three common river -birds--Coots--Moor-hen and nest--Little grebes' struggles--Male -grebe's devotion--Parent coot's wisdom--A more or less happy -family--Dogged little grebes--Grebes training their young--Fishing -birds and fascination. - - -There are no more refreshing places in Hampshire, one might almost -say in England, than the green level valleys of the Test and Itchen -that wind, alternately widening and narrowing, through the downland -country to Southampton Water. Twin rivers they may be called, -flowing at no great distance apart through the same kind of country, -and closely alike in their general features: land and water -intermixed--greenest water-meadows and crystal currents that divide -and subdivide and join again, and again separate, forming many a -miniature island and long slip of wet meadow with streams on either -side. At all times refreshing to the sight and pleasant to dwell by, -they are best - - When it is summer and the green is deep. - -Greens of darkest bulrushes, tipped with bright brown panicles, -growing in masses where the water is wide and shallowest; of -grey-green graceful reeds and of tallest reed-mace with dark velvety -brown {243} spikes; behind them all, bushes and trees--silvery-leafed -willow and poplar, and dark alder, and old thorns and brambles in -tangled masses; and always in the foreground lighter and brighter -sedges, glaucous green flags, mixed with great hemp agrimony, with -flesh-coloured, white-powdered flowers, and big-leafed comfrey, and -scores of other water and moisture-loving plants. - -Through this vegetation, this infinite variety of refreshing greens -and graceful forms, flow the rapid rivers, crystal-clear and cold -from the white chalk, a most beautiful water, with floating -water-grass in it--the fascinating _Poa fluviatilis_ which, rooted in -the pebbly bed, looks like green loosened wind-blown hair swaying and -trembling in the ever-crinkled, swift current. - -[Sidenote: Test and Itchen] - -They are not long rivers--the Test and Itchen--but long enough for -men with unfevered blood in their veins to find sweet and peaceful -homes on their margins. I think I know quite a dozen villages on the -former stream, and fifteen or sixteen on the latter, in any one of -which I could spend long years in perfect contentment. There are -towns, too, ancient Romsey and Winchester, and modern hideous -Eastleigh; but the little centres are best to live in. These are, -indeed, among the most characteristic Hampshire villages; mostly -small, with old thatched cottages, unlike, yet harmonising, -irregularly placed along the roadside; each with its lowly walls set -among gaily coloured flowers; the farm with its rural sounds and -smells, its big horses and {244} milch-cows led and driven along the -quiet streets; the small ancient church with its low, square tower, -or grey shingled spire; and great trees standing singly or in groups -or rows--oak and elm and ash; and often some ivy-grown relic of -antiquity--ivy, indeed, everywhere. The charm of these villages that -look as natural and one with the scene as chalk down and trees and -green meadows, and have an air of immemorial quiet and a human life -that is part of nature's life, unstrenuous, slow and sweet, has not -yet been greatly disturbed. It is not here as in some parts of -Hampshire, and as it is pretty well everywhere in Surrey, that most -favoured county, the Xanadu of the mighty ones of the money-market, -where they oftenest decree their lordly pleasure-domes. Those vast -red-brick habitations of the Kubla Khans of the city which stare and -glare at you from all openings in pine woods, across wide heaths and -commons, and from hill-sides and hill-tops, produce the idea that -they were turned out complete at some stupendous manufactory of -houses at a distance, and sent out by the hundred to be set up -wherever wanted, and where they are almost always utterly out of -keeping with their surroundings, and consequently a blot on and a -disfigurement of the landscape. - -[Sidenote: Itchen Valley] - -Happily the downland slopes overlooking these green valleys have so -far been neglected by the class of persons who live in mansions; for -the time being they are ours, and by "ours" I mean all those who love -and reverence this earth. But which of the two {245} is best I -cannot say. One prefers the Test and another the Itchen, doubtless -because in a matter of this kind the earth-lover will invariably -prefer the spot he knows most intimately; and for this reason, much -as I love the Test, long as I would linger by it, I love the Itchen -more, having had a closer intimacy with it. I dare say that some of -my friends, old Wykehamists, who as boys caught their first trout -close by the ancient sacred city and have kept up their acquaintance -with its crystal currents, will laugh at me for writing as I do. But -there are places, as there are faces, which draw the soul, and with -which, in a little while, one becomes strangely intimate. - -The first English cathedral I ever saw was that of Winchester: that -was a long time ago; it was then and on a few subsequent occasions -that I had glimpses of the river that runs by it. They were like -momentary sights of a beautiful face, caught in passing, of some -person unknown. Then it happened that in June 1900, cycling -Londonwards from Beaulieu and the coast by Lymington, I came to the -valley, and to a village about half-way between Winchester and -Alresford, on a visit to friends in their summer fishing retreat. - -[Sidenote: A riverside cottage] - -They had told me about their cottage, which serves them all the best -purposes of a lodge in the vast wilderness. Fortunately in this case -the "boundless contiguity of shade" of the woods is some little -distance away, on the other side of the ever green Itchen valley, -which, narrowing at this spot, is not much more than a couple of -hundred yards wide. {246} A long field's length away from the -cottage is the little ancient, rustic, tree-hidden village. The -cottage, too, is pretty well hidden by trees, and has the reed- and -sedge- and grass-green valley and swift river before it, and behind -and on each side green fields and old untrimmed hedges with a few old -oak trees growing both in the hedgerows and the fields. There is -also an ancient avenue of limes which leads nowhere and whose origin -is forgotten. The ground under the trees is overgrown with long -grass and nettles and burdock; nobody comes or goes by it, it is only -used by the cattle, the white and roan and strawberry shorthorns that -graze in the fields and stand in the shade of the limes on very hot -days. Nor is there any way or path to the cottage; but one must go -and come over the green fields, wet or dry. The avenue ends just at -the point where the gently sloping chalk down touches the level -valley, and the half-hidden, low-roofed cottage stands just there, -with the shadow of the last two lime trees falling on it at one side. -It was an ideal spot for a nature-lover and an angler to pitch his -tent upon. Here a small plot of ground, including the end of the -lime-tree avenue, was marked out, a hedge of sweetbriar planted round -it, the cottage erected, and a green lawn made before it on the river -side, and beds of roses planted at the back. - -Nothing more--no gravel walks; no startling scarlet geraniums, no -lobelias, no cinerarias, no calceolarias, nor other gardeners' -abominations to hurt one's eyes and make one's head ache. And no -dog, {247} nor cat, nor chick, nor child--only the wild birds to keep -one company. They knew how to appreciate its shelter and -solitariness; they were all about it, and built their nests amid the -great green masses of ivy, honeysuckle, Virginia creeper, rose, and -wild clematis which covered the trellised walls and part of the red -roof with a twelve years' luxuriant growth. To this delectable spot -I returned on 21st July to see the changeful summer of 1900 out, my -friends having gone north and left me their cottage for a habitation. - -"There is the wind on the heath, brother," and one heartily agrees -with the half-mythical Petulengro that it is a very good thing; it -had, indeed, been blowing off and on in my face for many months past; -and from shadeless heaths and windy downs, and last of all, from the -intolerable heat and dusty desolation of London in mid-July, it was a -delightful change to this valley. - -During the very hot days that followed it was pleasure enough to sit -in the shade of the limes most of the day; there was coolness, -silence, melody, fragrance; and, always before me, the sight of that -moist green valley, which made one cool simply to look at it, and -never wholly lost its novelty. The grass and herbage grow so -luxuriantly in the water-meadows that the cows grazing there were -half-hidden in their depth; and the green was tinged with the purple -of seeding grasses, and red of dock and sorrel, and was everywhere -splashed with creamy white of meadow-sweet. The channels of the -swift {248} many-channelled river were fringed with the livelier -green of sedges and reed-mace, and darkest green of bulrushes, and -restful grey of reeds not yet in flower. - -[Sidenote: Bird visitors] - -The old limes were now in their fullest bloom; and the hotter the day -the greater the fragrance, the flower, unlike the woodbine and -sweetbriar, needing no dew nor rain to bring out its deliciousness. -To me, sitting there, it was at the same time a bath and atmosphere -of sweetness, but it was very much more than that to all the -honey-eating insects in the neighbourhood. Their murmur was loud all -day till dark, and from the lower branches that touched the grass -with leaf and flower to their very tops the trees were peopled with -tens and with hundreds of thousands of bees. Where they all came -from was a mystery; somewhere there should be a great harvest of -honey and wax as a result of all this noise and activity. It was a -soothing noise, according with an idle man's mood in the July -weather; and it harmonised with, forming, so to speak, an appropriate -background to, the various distinct and individual sounds of bird -life. - -The birds were many, and the tree under which I sat was their -favourite resting-place; for not only was it the largest of the -limes, but it was the last of the row, and overlooked the valley, so -that when they flew across from the wood on the other side they -mostly came to it. It was a very noble tree, eighteen feet in -circumference near the ground; at about twenty feet from the root, -the trunk divided into two central boles and several of lesser size, -and {249} these all threw out long horizontal and drooping branches, -the lowest of which feathered down to the grass. One sat as in a -vast pavilion, and looked up to a height of sixty or seventy feet -through wide spaces of shadow and green sunlight, and sunlit -golden-green foliage and honey-coloured blossom, contrasting with -brown branches and with masses of darkest mistletoe. - -Among the constant succession of bird visitors to the tree above me -were the three pigeons--ring-dove, stock-dove, and turtle-dove; -finches, tree-warblers, tits of four species, and the wren, -tree-creeper, nuthatch, and many more. The best vocalists had ceased -singing; the last nightingale I had heard utter its full song was in -the oak woods of Beaulieu on 27th June: and now all the -tree-warblers, and with them chaffinch, thrush, blackbird, and robin, -had become silent. The wren was the leading songster, beginning his -bright music at four o'clock in the morning, and the others, still in -song, that visited me were the greenfinch, goldfinch, swallow, -dunnock, and cirl bunting. From my seat I could also hear the songs -in the valley of the reed and sedge warblers, reed-bunting, and -grasshopper-warbler. These, and the polyglot starling, and cooing -and crooning doves, made the last days of July at this spot seem not -the silent season we are accustomed to call it. - -Of these singers the goldfinch was the most pleasing. The bird that -sang near me had assisted in rearing a brood in a nest on a low -branch a few yards away, but {250} he still returned from the fields -at intervals to sing; and seen, as I now saw him a dozen times a day, -perched among the lime leaves and blossoms at the end of a slender -bough, in his black and gold and crimson livery, he was by far the -prettiest of my feathered visitors. - -[Sidenote: Cirl bunting] - -But the cirl bunting, the inferior singer, interested me most, for I -am somewhat partial to the buntings, and he is the best of them, and -the one I knew least about from personal observation. - -On my way hither at the end of June, somewhere between Romsey and -Winchester, a cock cirl bunting in fine plumage flew up before me and -perched on the wire of a roadside fence. It was a welcome encounter, -and, alighting, I stood for some time watching him. I did not know -that I was in a district where this pretty species is more numerous -than in any other place in England--as common, in fact, as the -universal yellowhammer, and commoner than the more local -corn-bunting. Here in July and August, in the course of an -afternoon's walk, in any place where there are trees and grass -fields, one can count on hearing half a dozen birds sing, every one -of them probably the parent of a nestful of young. For this is the -cirl bunting's pleasant habit. He assists in feeding and -safeguarding the young, even as other songsters do who cease singing -when this burden is laid upon them; but he is a bird of placid -disposition, and takes his task more quietly than most; and, after -returning from the fields with several grasshoppers in his throat and -{251} beak and feeding his fledglings, he takes a rest, and at -intervals in the day flies to his favourite tree, and repeats his -blithe little song half a dozen times. - -The song is not quite accurately described in the standard -ornithological works as exactly like that of the yellowhammer, only -without the thin, drawn-out note at the end, and therefore -inferior--the little bit of bread, but without the cheese. It -certainly resembles the yellowhammer's song, being a short note, a -musical chirp, rapidly repeated several times. But the yellowhammer -varies his song as to its time, the notes being sometimes fast and -sometimes slow. The cirl's song is always the same in this respect, -and is always a more rapid song than that of the other species. So -rapid is it that, heard at a distance, it acquires almost the -character of a long trill. In quality, too, it is the better -song--clearer, brighter, brisker--and it carries farther; on still -mornings I could hear one bird's song very distinctly at a distance -of two hundred and fifty yards. The only good description of the -cirl bunting's song--as well as the best general account of the -bird's habits--which I have found, is in J. C. Bellamy's _Natural -History of South Devon_ (Plymouth and London), 1839, probably a -forgotten book. - -The best singer among the British buntings, he is also to my mind the -prettiest bird. When he is described as black and brown, and lemon -and sulphur-yellow, and olive and lavender-grey, and chestnut-red, we -are apt to think that the effect of so many colours thrown upon his -small body cannot be very {252} pleasing. But it is not so; these -various colours are so harmoniously disposed, and have, in the -lighter and brighter hues in the living bird, such a flower-like -freshness and delicacy, that the effect is really charming. - -When, in June, I first visited the cottage, my host took me into his -dressing-room, and from it we watched a pair of cirl buntings bring -food to their young in a nest in a small cypress standing just five -yards from the window. The young birds were in the pinfeather stage, -but they were unfortunately taken a very few days later by a rat, or -stoat, or by that winged nest-robber the jackdaw, whose small cunning -grey eyes are able to see into so many hidden things. - -The birds themselves did not grieve overlong at their loss: the day -after the nest was robbed the cock was heard singing--and he -continued to sing every day from his favourite tree, an old black -poplar growing outside the sweetbriar hedge in front of the cottage. - -About this bird of a brave and cheerful disposition, more will have -to be said in the next chapter. It is, or was, my desire to describe -events in the valley at this changeful period from late July to -October in the order of their occurrence, but in all the rest of the -present chapter, which will be given to the river birds exclusively, -the order must be broken. - -[Sidenote: Water-birds] - -Undoubtedly the three commonest water-birds inhabiting inland waters -throughout England are {253} the coot, moor-hen, and dabchick, or -little grebe; and on account of their abundance and general -distribution they are almost as familiar as our domestic birds. Yet -one never grows tired of seeing and hearing them, as we do of noting -the actions of other species that inhabit the same places; and the -reason for this--a very odd reason it seems!--is because these three -common birds, members of two orders which the modern scientific -zoologist has set down among the lowest, and therefore, as he tells -us, most stupid, of the feathered inhabitants of the globe, do -actually exhibit a quicker intelligence and greater variety in their -actions and habits than the species which are accounted their -superiors. - -The coot is not so abundant as the other two; also he is less varied -in his colour, and less lively in his motions, and consequently -attracts us less. The moor-hen is the most engaging, as well as the -commonest--a bird concerning which more entertaining matter has been -related in our natural histories than of any other native species. -And I now saw a great deal of him, and of the other two as well. -From the cottage windows, and from the lawn outside, one looked upon -the main current of the river, and there were the birds always in -sight; and when not looking one could hear them. Without paying -particular attention to them their presence in the river was a -constant source of interest and amusement. - -At one spot, where the stream made a slight bend, the floating -water-weeds brought down by the current were always being caught by -scattered bulrushes {254} growing a few feet from the edge; the -arrested weeds formed a minute group of islets, and on these -convenient little refuges and resting-places in the waterway, a dozen -or more of the birds could be seen at most times. The old coots -would stand on the floating weeds and preen and preen their plumage -by the hour. They were like mermaids, for ever combing out their -locks, and had the clear stream for a mirror. The dull-brown, -white-breasted young coots, now fully grown, would meanwhile swim -about picking up their own food. The moor-hens were with them, -preening and feeding, and one had its nest there. It was a very big -conspicuous nest, built up on a bunch of floating weeds, and formed, -when the bird was sitting on its eggs, a pretty and curious object; -for every day fresh bright-green sedge leaves were plucked and woven -round it, and on that high bright-green nest, as on a throne, the -bird sat, and when I went near the edge of the water, she (or he) -would flirt her tail to display the snowy-white under-feathers, and -nod her head, and stand up as if to display her pretty green legs, so -as to let me see and admire all her colours; and finally, not being -at all shy, she would settle quietly down again. - -[Sidenote: Little grebes] - -The little grebes, too, had chosen that spot to build on. Poor -little grebes! how they worked and sat, and built and sat again, all -the summer long. And all along the river it was the same thing--the -grebes industriously making their nests, and trying ever so hard to -hatch their eggs; and then at intervals of a few days the ruthless -water-keeper would come by {255} with his long fatal pole to dash -their hopes. For whenever he saw a suspicious-looking bunch of dead -floating weeds which might be a grebe's nest, down would come the end -of the pole on it, and the eggs would be spilt out of the wet bed, -and rolled down by the swift water to the sea. And then the birds -would cheerfully set to work again at the very same spot: but it was -never easy to tell which bunch of wet weeds their eggs were hidden -in. Watching with a glass I could see the hen on her eggs, but if -any person approached she would hastily pull the wet weeds from the -edge over them, and slip into the water, diving and going away to -some distance. While the female sat the male was always busy, diving -and catching little fishes; he would dive down in one spot, and -suddenly pop up a couple of yards away, right among the coots and -moor-hens. This Jack-in-the-box action on his part never upset their -nerves. They took not the slightest notice of him, and were -altogether a more or less, happy family, all very tolerant of each -other's little eccentricities. - -The little grebe fished for himself and for his sitting mate; he -never seemed so happy and proud as when he was swimming to her, -patiently sitting on her wet nest, with a little silvery fish in his -beak. He also fished for old decaying weeds, which he fetched up -from the bottom to add to the nest. Whenever he popped up among or -near the other birds with an old rag of a weed in his beak, one or -two of the grown-up young coots would try to take it from him; and -seeing them gaining on him he would dive down to {256} come up in -another place, still clinging to the old rag half a yard long; and -again the chase would be renewed, and again he would dive; until at -last, after many narrow escapes and much strategy, the nest would be -gained, and the sitting bird would take the weed from him and draw it -up and tuck it round her, pleased with his devotedness, and at the -sight of his triumph over the coots. As a rule, after giving her -something--a little fish, or a wet weed to pull up and make herself -comfortable with--they would join their voices in that long trilling -cry of theirs, like a metallic, musical-sounding policeman's rattle. - -It was not in a mere frolicsome spirit that the young coots hunted -the dabchick with his weed, but rather, as I imagine, because the -white succulent stems of aquatic plants growing deep in the water are -their favourite food; they are accustomed to have it dived for by -their parents and brought up to them, and they never appear to get -enough to satisfy them; but when they are big, and their parents -refuse to slave for them, they seem to want to make the little grebes -their fishers for succulent stems. - -One day in August 1899, I witnessed a pretty little bird-comedy at -the Pen Ponds, in Richmond Park, which seemed to throw a strong light -on the inner or domestic life of the coot. For a space of twenty -minutes I watched an old coot industriously diving and bringing up -the white parts of the stems of _Polygonum persicaria_, which grows -abundantly there, together with the rarer more beautiful -_Lymnanthemum nymphoļdes_, {257} which is called Lymnanth for short. -I prefer an English name for a British plant, an exceedingly -attractive one in this case, and so beg leave to call it -Water-crocus. The old bird was attended by a full-grown young one, -which she was feeding, and the unfailing diligence and quickness of -the parent were as wonderful to see as the gluttonous disposition of -its offspring. The old coot dived at least three times every minute, -and each time came up with a clean white stem, the thickness of a -stout clay pipe-stem, cut the proper length--about three to four -inches. This the young bird would take and instantly swallow; but -before it was well down his throat the old bird would be gone for -another. I was with a friend, and we wondered when its devouring -cormorant appetite would be appeased, and how its maw could contain -so much food; we also compared it to a hungry Italian greedily -sucking down macaroni. - -While this was going on a second young bird had been on the old nest -on the little island in the lake, quietly dozing; and at length this -one got off his dozing-place, and swam out to where the weed-fishing -and feeding were in progress. As he came up, the old coot rose with -a white stem in her beak, which the new-comer pushed forward to take; -but the other thrust himself before him, and, snatching the stem from -his parent's beak, swallowed it himself. The old coot remained -perfectly motionless for a space of about four seconds, looking -fixedly at the greedy one who had been gorging for twenty {258} -minutes yet refused to give place to the other. Then very suddenly, -and with incredible fury, she dashed at and began hunting him over -the pond. In vain he rose up and flew over the water, beating the -surface with his feet, uttering cries of terror; in vain he dived; -again and again she overtook and dealt him the most savage blows with -her sharp beak, until, her anger thoroughly appeased and the -punishment completed, she swam back to the second bird, waiting -quietly at the same spot for her return, and began once more diving -for white stems of the _Polygonum_. - -Never again, we said, would the greedy young bird behave in the -unmannerly way which had brought so terrible a castigation upon him! -The coot is certainly a good mother who does not spoil her child by -sparing the rod. And this is the bird which our comparative -anatomists, after pulling it to pieces, tell us is a small-brained, -unintelligent creature; and which old Michael Drayton, who, being a -poet, ought to have known better, described as "a formal brainless -ass"! - -[Sidenote: Happy families] - -To come back to the Itchen birds. The little group, or happy family, -I have described was but one of the many groups of the same kind -existing all along the river; and these separate groups, though at a -distance from each other, and not exactly on visiting terms, each -being jealous of its own stretch of water, yet kept up a sort of -neighbourly intercourse in their own way. Single cries were heard at -all times from different points; but once or two or {259} three times -in the day a cry of a coot or a moor-hen would be responded to by a -bird at a distance; then another would take it up at a more distant -point, and another still, until cries answering cries would be heard -all along the stream. At such times the voice of the skulking -water-rail would be audible too, but whether this excessively -secretive bird had any social relations with the others beyond -joining in the general greeting and outcry I could not discover. -Thus, all these separate little groups, composed of three different -species, were like the members of one tribe or people broken up into -families; and altogether it seemed that their lines had fallen to -them in pleasant places, although it cannot be said that the placid -current of their existence was never troubled. - -I know not what happened to disturb them, but sometimes all at once -cries were heard which were unmistakably emitted in anger, and sounds -of splashing and struggling among the sedges and bulrushes; and the -rushes would be swayed about this way and that, and birds would -appear in hot pursuit of one another over the water; and then, just -when one was in the midst of wondering what all this fury in their -cooty breasts could be about, lo! it would all be over, and the -little grebe would be busy catching his silvery fishes; and the -moor-hen, pleased as ever at her own prettiness, nodding and prinking -and flirting her feathers; and the coot, as usual, mermaid-like, -combing out her slate-coloured tresses. - -We have seen that of these three species the little {260} grebe was -not so happy as the others, owing to his taste for little fishes -being offensive to the fish-breeder and preserver. When I first saw -how this river was watched over by the water-keepers, I came to the -conclusion that very few or no dabchicks would succeed in hatching -any young. And none were hatched until August, and then to my -surprise I heard at one point the small, plaintive _peep-peep_ of the -young birds crying to be fed. One little grebe, more cunning or more -fortunate than the others, had at last succeeded in bringing off her -young; and once out of their shells they were safe. But by-and-by -the little duckling-like sound was heard at another point, and then -at another; and this continued in September, until, by the middle of -that month, you could walk miles along the river, and before you left -the sound of one little brood hungrily crying to be fed behind you, -the little _peep-peep_ of another brood would begin to be heard in -advance of you. - -Often enough it is "dogged as does it" in bird as well as in human -affairs, and never had birds more deserved to succeed than these -dogged little grebes. I doubt if a single pair failed to bring out -at least a couple of young by the end of September. And at that date -you could see young birds apparently just out of the shell, while -those that had been hatched in August were full grown. - -[Sidenote: Fishing-lessons] - -About the habits of the little grebe, as about those of the moor-hen, -many curious and entertaining things have been written; but what -amused me most in these birds, when I watched them in late September -{261} on the Itchen, was the skilful way in which the parent bird -taught her grown-up young ones to fish. At an early period the -fishes given to the downy young are very small, and are always well -bruised in the beak before the young bird is allowed to take it, -however eager he may be to seize it. Afterwards, when the young are -more grown, the size of the fishes is increased, and they are less -and less bruised, although always killed. Finally, the young has to -be taught to catch for himself; and at first he does not appear to -have any aptitude for such a task, or any desire to acquire it. He -is tormented with hunger, and all he knows is that his parent can -catch fish for him, and his only desire is that she shall go on -catching them as fast as he can swallow them. And she catches him a -fish, and gives it to him, but, oh mockery! it was not really dead -this time, and instantly falls into the water and is lost! Not -hopelessly lost, however, for down she goes like lightning, and comes -up in ten seconds with it again. And he takes and drops it again, -and looks stupid, and again she recovers and gives it to him. How -many hundreds of times, I wonder, must this lesson be repeated before -the young grebe finds out how to keep and to kill? Yet that is after -all only the beginning of his education. The main thing is that he -must be taught to dive after the fishes he lets fall, and he appears -to have no inclination, no intuitive impulse, to do such a thing. A -small, quite dead fish must be given him carelessly, so that it shall -fall, and he must be taught to pick up a {262} fallen morsel from the -surface; but from that first simple act to the swift plunge and long -chase after and capture of uninjured vigorous fishes, what an immense -distance there is! It is, however, probable that, after the first -reluctance of the young bird has been overcome, and a habit of diving -after escaped fishes acquired, he makes exceedingly rapid progress. - -But, even after the completion of his education, when he is -independent of his parents, and quick and sure as they at capturing -fishes down in their own dim element, is it not still a puzzle and a -mystery that such a thing can be done? And here I speak not only of -the little grebe, but of all birds that dive after fishes, and pursue -and capture them in fresh or salt water. We see how a kingfisher -takes his prey, or a tern, or gannet, or osprey, by dropping upon it -when it swims near the surface; he takes his fish by surprise, as a -sparrow-hawk takes the bird he preys upon. But no specialisation can -make an air-breathing, feathered bird an equal of the fish under -water. One can see at a glance in any clear stream that any fish can -out-distance any bird, darting off with the least effort so swiftly -as almost to elude the sight, while the fastest bird under water -moves but little faster than a water-rat. - -[Sidenote: Fascination] - -The explanation, I believe, is that the paralysing effect on many -small, persecuted creatures in the presence of, or when pursued by, -their natural enemies and devourers, is as common under as above the -water. I have distinctly seen this when watching fish-eating birds -being fed at the Zoological {263} Gardens in glass tanks. The -appearance of the bird when he dives strikes an instant terror into -them; and it may then be seen that those which endeavour to escape -are no longer in possession of their full powers, and their efforts -to fly from the enemy are like those of the mouse and vole when a -weasel is on their track, or of a frog when pursued by a snake; while -others remain suspended in the water, quite motionless, until seized -and swallowed. - - - - -{264} - -CHAPTER XIII - -Morning in the valley--Abundance of swifts--Unlikeness to other -birds--Mayfly and swallows--Mayfly and swift--Bad weather and -hail--Swallows in the rain--Sand-martins--An orphaned -blackbird--Tamed by feeding--Survival of gregarious instinct in young -blackbirds--Blackbird's good-night--Cirl buntings--Breeding habits -and language--Habits of the young--Reed-bunting--Beautiful -weather--The oak in August. - - -[Sidenote: Swifts] - -During the month of July the swift was the most abundant and most -constantly before us of all our Itchen-valley birds. In the morning -he was not there. We had the pigeons then, all three -species--ring-dove, stock-dove and turtle-dove--being abundant in the -woods on the opposite side of the valley, and from four o'clock to -six was the time of their morning concert, when the still air was -filled with the human-like musical sound of their multitudinous -voices mingled in one voice. An hour or two later, as the air grew -warmer, the swifts would begin to arrive to fly up and down the -stream incessantly until dark, feasting on the gnats and ephemerę -that swarmed over the water during those hot days of late summer. -Doubtless these birds come every day from all the towns, villages, -and farm-houses scattered over a very broad strip of country on -either side of the Itchen. Never had I seen swifts so numerous; -looking down on the {265} valley from any point one had hundreds of -birds in sight at once, all swiftly flying up and down stream; but -when the sight was kept fixed on any one bird, it could be seen that -he went but a short distance--fifty to a hundred yards--then turned -back. Thus each bird had a very limited range, and probably each -returned to his accustomed place or beat every day. - -These swifts are very much in the angler's way. Frequently they get -entangled in the line and are brought down, but are seldom injured. -During one day's fishing my friend here had three swifts to disengage -from his line. On releasing one of these birds he watched its -movements, and saw it fly up stream a distance of about forty yards, -then double back, mechanically going on with its fly-hunting up and -down stream just as if nothing had happened. - -It may be said of swifts, as Bates said of hummingbirds, that, -mentally, they are more like bees than birds. The infallible, -unchangeable way in which they, machine-like, perform all their -actions, and their absolute unteachableness, are certainly -insect-like. They are indeed so highly specialised and perfected in -their own line, and, on account of their marvellous powers of flight, -so removed from all friction in that atmosphere in which they live -and move, above the complex and wit-sharpening conditions in which -the more terrestrial creatures of their class exist, as to be -practically independent of experience. - -It is known that for some time the mayfly has {266} been decreasing, -and in places disappearing altogether from these Hampshire streams, -and it is believed and said by some of those who are concerned at -these changes that the swallow is accountable for them. I do not -know whether they have invented this brilliant idea themselves or -have taken it ready-made from the water-keeper. Probably the last, -since he, the water-keeper, is apt to regard all creatures that come -to the waters where his sacred fishes are with a dull, hostile -suspicion, though in some cases he is not above adding to his income -by taking a few trout himself--not indeed with the dry fly, which is -useless at night, but with the shoe-net. In any case the question of -exterminating the swallows in all the villages near the rivers has -been seriously considered. Now, it is rather odd that this notion -about the swallow--the martin is of course included--should have got -about just when this bird has itself fallen on evil times and is -decreasing with us. This decrease has, in all parts of the country -best known to me, become increasingly rapid during the last few -years, and is probably due to new and improved methods of taking the -birds wholesale during migration in France and Spain. Putting that -matter aside, I should like to ask those gentlemen who have decreed, -or would like to decree, the abolition of the swallow in all the -riverside villages, what they propose to do about the swift. - -[Sidenote: Mayfly and swift] - -One day last June (1902) I was walking with two friends by the -Itchen, when a little below the village of Ovington we sat down to -rest and to enjoy a gleam {267} of sunshine which happened to visit -the world about noon that day. We sat down on a little wooden bridge -over the main current and fell to watching the swifts, which were -abundant, flying up and down just over our heads and, swift-like, -paying no more heed to us than if we had been three wooden posts or -three cows. We noticed that ephemerę of three or four species were -rising up, and, borne by a light wind, drifting down-stream towards -us and past us; and after watching these flies for some time we found -that not one of them escaped. Small and grey, or dun, or -water-coloured and well-nigh invisible, or large and yellow and -conspicuous as they rose and slowly fluttered over the stream, they -were seen and snapped up, every one of them, by those fateful -sooty-coloured demons of the air, ever streaming by on their swift -scythe-shaped wings. Not a swallow nor a martin was in sight at that -spot. - -It is plain, then, that if the mayfly is declining and dying out -because some too greedy bird snatches its life before it can lay its -eggs to continue the species, or drop upon the water to supply the -trout with its proper succulent food, the swift and not the swallow -is the chief culprit. - -It is equally plain that these (from the angler's point of view) -injurious birds are not breeders by the waterside. Their numbers are -too great: they come, ninety per cent. of them I should say, from -farm-houses, villages, and towns at a distance of a good many miles -from the water. - -The revels of the swifts were brought prematurely {268} to an end by -a great change in the weather, which began with a thunderstorm on -27th July, and two days later a greater storm, with hail the size of -big marrowfat peas, which fell so abundantly that the little lawn was -all white as if snow had fallen. From that time onwards storm -succeeded storm, and finally the weather became steadily bad; and we -had rough, cold, wet days right on to the 10th of August. It was a -terrible time for the poor holiday people all over the country, and -bad too for the moulting and late-breeding birds. As a small set-off -to all the discomfort of these dreary days, we had a green lawn once -more at the cottage. I had made one or two attempts at watering it, -but the labour proved too great to a lazy man, and now Nature had -come with her great watering-pot and restored its spring-like verdure -and softness. - -During the wettest and coldest days I spent hours watching the -swallows and swifts flying about all day long in the rain. These -are, indeed, our only summer land-birds that never seek a shelter -from the wet, and which are not affected in their flight by a wetted -plumage. Their upper feathers are probably harder and more closely -knit and impervious to moisture than those of other kinds. It may be -seen that a swallow or swift, when flying about in the rain, at short -intervals gives himself a quick shake as if to throw off the -raindrops. Then, too, the food and constant exercise probably serve -to keep them warmer than they would be sitting motionless in a dry -place. Swifts, we sometimes see, are numbed {269} and even perish of -cold during frosty nights in spring; I doubt that the cold ever kills -them by day when they can keep perpetually moving. - -[Sidenote: Sand-martins] - -Day by day, during this long spell of summer wet and cold, these -birds diminished in number, until they were almost all gone--swifts, -swallows, and house-martins; but we were not to be without a swallow, -for as these went, sand-martins came in, and increased in numbers -until they were in thousands. We had them every day and all day -before us, flying up and down the valley, in the shelter of the -woods, their pale plumage and wavering flight making them look in the -distance like great white flies against the wall of black-green trees -and gloomy sky beyond. - -On days when the sun shone they came in numbers to perch on the -telegraph wires stretched across a field between the cottage and -village. It was beautiful to see them, a double line fifty or sixty -yards long of the small, pale-coloured, graceful birdlings, sitting -so close together as to be almost touching, all with their beaks -pointing to the west, from where the wind blew. - -In this same field, one day when this pleasant company were leaving -us after a week's rest, I picked up one that had killed himself by -striking against the wire. A most delicate little dead swallow, -looking in his pale colouring and softness as moth-like in death as -he had seemed when alive and flying. I took him home--the little -moth-bird pilgrim to Africa, who had got no farther than the Itchen -on his journey--and buried him at the roots of a {270} honeysuckle -growing by the cottage door. It seemed fittest that he should be put -there, to become part with the plant which, in the pallid yellows and -dusky reds of its blossoms, and in the perfume it gives out so -abundantly at eventide, has an expression of melancholy, and is more -to us in some of our moods than any other flower. - -[Sidenote: An orphaned blackbird] - -The bad weather brought to our little plot of ground a young -blackbird, who had evidently been thrown upon the world too early in -life. A good number of blackbird broods had been brought off in the -bushes about us, and in the rough and tumble of those tempestuous -days some of the young had no doubt got scattered and lost; this at -all events was one that had called and called to be fed and warmed -and comforted in vain--we had heard him calling for days--and who had -now grown prematurely silent, and had soberly set himself to find his -own living as best he could. Between the lawn and the small -sweetbriar hedge there was a strip of loose mould where roses had -been planted, and here the bird had discovered that by turning over -the dead leaves and loose earth a few small morsels were to be found. -During those cold, windy, wet days we observed him there diligently -searching in his poor, slow little way. He would strike his beak -into the loose ground, making a little hop forward at the same time -to give force to the stroke, and throw up about as much earth as -would cover a shilling-piece; then he would gaze attentively at the -spot, and after a couple of seconds hop and strike again; and {271} -finally, if he could see nothing to eat, he would move on a few -inches and begin again in another place. That was all his art--his -one poor little way of getting a living; and it was plain to see from -his bedraggled appearance and feeble motions, that he was going the -way of most young orphaned birds. - -Now, I hate playing at providence among the creatures, but we cannot -be rid of pity; and there are exceptional cases in which one feels -justified in putting out a helping hand. Nature herself is not -always careless of the individual life: or perhaps it would be better -to say with Thoreau, "We are not wholly involved in Nature." And -anxious to give the poor bird a chance by putting him in a sheltered -place, and feeding him up, as Ruskin once did in a like case, I set -about catching him, but could not lay hands on him, for he was still -able to fly a little, and always managed to escape pursuit among the -brambles, or else in the sedges by the waterside. Half an hour after -being hunted, he would be back on the edge of the lawn prodding the -ground in the old feeble, futile way. And the scraps of food I -cunningly placed for him he disregarded, not knowing in his ignorance -what was good for him. Then I got a supply of small earthworms, and, -stalking him, tossed them so as to cause them to fall near him, and -he saw and knew what they were, and swallowed them hungrily; and he -saw, too, that they were thrown to him by a hand, and that the hand -was part of that same huge grey-clad monster that had a little while -back so furiously hunted him; {272} and at once he seemed to -understand the meaning of it all, and instead of flying from he ran -to meet us, and, recovering his voice, called to be fed. The -experience of one day made him a tame bird; on the second day he knew -that bread and milk, stewed plums, pie-crust, and, in fact, anything -we had to give, was good for him; and in the course of the next two -or three days he acquired a useful knowledge of our habits. Thus, at -half-past three in the morning he would begin calling to be fed at -the bedroom window. If no notice was taken of him he would go away -to try and find something for himself, and return at five o'clock -when breakfast was in preparation, and place himself before the -kitchen door. Usually he got a small snack then; and at the -breakfast hour (six o'clock) he would turn up at the dining-room -window and get a substantial meal. Dinner and tea time--twelve and -half-past three o'clock--found him at the same spot; but he was often -hungry between meals, and he would then sit before one door or window -and call, then move to the next door, and so on until he had been all -round the cottage. It was most amusing to see him when, on our -return from a long walk or a day out, he would come to meet us, -screaming excitedly, bounding over the lawn with long hops, looking -like a miniature very dark-coloured kangaroo. - -One day I came back alone to the cottage, and sat down on the lawn in -a canvas chair, to wait for my companion who had the key. The -blackbird had seen, and came flying to me, and pitching close to my -{273} feet began crying to be fed, shaking his wings, and dancing -about in a most excited state, for he had been left a good many hours -without food, and was very hungry. As I moved not in my chair he -presently ran round and began screaming and fluttering on the other -side of it, thinking, I suppose, that he had gone to the wrong place, -and that by addressing himself to the back of my head he would -quickly get an answer. - -The action of this bird in coming to be fed naturally attracted a -good deal of attention among the feathered people about us; they -would look on at a distance, evidently astonished and much puzzled at -our bird's boldness in coming to our feet. But nothing dreadful -happened to him, and little by little they began to lose their -suspicion; and first a robin--the robin is always first--then other -blackbirds to the number of seven, then chaffinches and dunnocks, all -began to grow tame and to attend regularly at meal-time to have a -share in anything that was going. The most lively, active, and -quarrelsome member of this company was our now glossy foundling; and -it troubled us to think that in feeding him we were but staving off -the evil day when he would once more have to fend for himself. -Certainly we were teaching him nothing. But our fears were idle. -The seven wild blackbirds that had formed a habit of coming to share -his food were all young birds, and as time went on and the hedge -fruit began to ripen, we noticed that they kept more and more -together. Whenever one was observed to fly straight {274} away to -some distance, in a few moments another would follow, then another; -and presently it would be seen that they were all making their way to -some spot in the valley, or to the woods on the other side. After -several hours' absence they would all reappear on the lawn, or near -it, at the same time, showing that they had been together throughout -the day and had returned in company. After observing them in their -comings and goings for several weeks I felt convinced that this -species has in it the remains of a gregarious instinct which affects -the young birds. Our bird, as a member of this little company, must -have quickly picked up from the others all that it was necessary for -him to know, and at last it was plain to us from his behaviour at the -cottage that he was doing very well for himself. He was often absent -most of the day with the others, and on his return late in the -afternoon he would pick over the good things placed for him in a -leisurely way, selecting a morsel here and there, and eating more out -of compliment to us, as it seemed, than because he was hungry. But -up to the very last, when he had grown as hardy and strong on the -wing as any of his wild companions, he kept up his acquaintance with -and confidence in us; and even at night when I would go out to where -most of our wild birds roosted, in the trees and bushes growing in a -vast old chalk-pit close to the cottage, and called "Blackie," -instantly there would be a response--a softly chuckled note, like a -sleepy "Good-night," thrown back to me out of the darkness. - -{275} - -[Sidenote: Cirl bunting] - -During the spell of rough weather which brought us the blackbird, my -interest was centred in the cirl buntings. On 4th August, I was -surprised to find that they were breeding again in the little -sweetbriar hedge, and had three fledglings about a week old in the -nest. They had on this occasion gone from the west to the east side -of the cottage, and the new nest, two to three feet from the ground, -was placed in the centre of a small tangle of sweet-briar, bramble, -and bryony, within a few yards of the trunk of the big lime tree -under which I was accustomed to sit. I had this nest under -observation until 9th August, which happened to be the worst day, the -coldest, wettest, and windiest of all that wintry spell; and yet in -such weather the young birds came out of their cradle. For a couple -of days they remained near the nest concealed among some low bushes; -then the whole family moved away to a hedge at some distance on -higher ground, and there I watched the old birds for some days -feeding their young on grasshoppers. - -The result of my observations on these birds and on three other pairs -which I found breeding close by--one in the village, another just -outside of it, and the third by the thorn-grown foundation of ruined -Abbotstone not far off--came as a surprise to me; for it appeared -that the cirl in its breeding habits and language was not like other -buntings, nor indeed like any other bird. The young hatched out of -the curiously marked or "written" eggs are like those of the -yellowhammer, black as moor-hen {276} chicks in their black down, -opening wide crimson mouths to be fed. But should the parent birds, -or one of them, be watching you at the nest, they will open not their -beaks, but hearing and obeying the warning note they lie close as if -glued to the bottom of the nest. It is a curious sound. Unless one -knows it, and the cause of it, one may listen a long time and not -discover the bird that utters it. The buntings sit as usual, -motionless and unseen among the leaves of the tree, and, so long as -you are near the nest, keep up the sound, an excessively sharp -metallic chirp, uttered in turns by both birds, but always a short -note in the female, and a double note in the male, the second one -prolonged to a wail or squeal. No other bird has an alarm or warning -note like it: it is one of those very high sounds that are easily -missed by the hearing, like the robin's fine-drawn wail when in -trouble about his young; but when you catch and listen to it the -effect on the brain is somewhat distressing. A Hampshire friend and -naturalist told me that a pair of these birds that bred in his garden -almost drove him crazy with their incessant sharp alarm note. - -The effect of this warning sound on the young is very striking: -before they can fly or are fit to leave the nest, they are ready, -when approached too closely, to leap like startled frogs out of the -nest, and scuttle away into hiding on the ground. Once they have -flown they are extremely difficult to find, as, on hearing the -parent's warning note, they squat down on their perch and remain -motionless as a leaf among {277} the leaves. Often I could only -succeed in making them fly by seizing and shaking the branches of a -thorn or other bush in which I knew they were hidden. So long as the -young bird keeps still on its branch, the old bird on some tree -twenty or thirty or forty yards away remains motionless, though all -the time emitting the sharp, puzzling, warning sound; but the very -instant that the young bird quits his perch, darting suddenly away, -the parent bird is up too, shooting out so swiftly as almost to elude -the sight, and in a moment overtakes and flies with the young bird, -hugging it so closely that the two look almost like one. Together -they dart away to a distance, usually out over a field, and drop and -vanish in the grass. But in a few moments the parent bird is back -again, sitting still among the leaves, emitting the shrill sound, -ready to dart away with the next young bird that seeks to escape by -flight. - -This method of attending and safe-guarding the young is, indeed, -common among birds, but in no species known to me is it seen in such -vigour and perfection. What most strikes one is the change from -immobility when the bird sits invisible among the leaves, marking the -time with those excessively sharp, metallic clicks and wails like a -machine-bird, to unexpected, sudden, brilliant activity. - -When not warned into silence and immobility by the parent the young -cirls are clamorous enough, crying to be fed, and these, too, have -voices of an excessive sharpness. Of other native species the -sharpest hunger-cries that I know are those of the {278} tits, -especially the long-tailed tit, and the spotted fly-catcher; but -these sounds are not comparable in brain-piercing acuteness to those -of the young cirls. - -Another thing I have wondered at in a creature of so quiet a -disposition as the cirl bunting is the extraordinary violence of the -male towards other small birds when by chance they come near his -young, in or out of the nest. So jealous is he that he will attack a -willow-wren or a dunnock with as much fury as other birds use only -towards the most deadly enemies of their young. - -Here, by the Itchen, where we have all four buntings, I find that the -reed-bunting--called black-head or black-top--is, after the cirl, the -latest singer. He continues when, towards the end of August, the -corn-bunting and yellowhammer become silent. He is the poorest -singer of the bunting tribe, the first part of his song being like -the chirp of an excited sparrow, somewhat shriller, and then follows -the long note, shrill too, or sibilant and tremulous. It is more -like the distressful hunger-call of some young birds than a -song-note. A reedy sound in a reedy place, and one likes to hear it -in the green valley among the wind-rustled, sword-shaped leaves and -waving spears of rush and aquatic grass. So fond is he of his own -music that he will sing even when moulting. I was amused one day -when listening to a reed-bunting sitting on a top branch of a dwarf -alder tree in the valley of Ovington, busily occupied in preening his -fluffed-out and rather ragged-looking plumage, yet pausing at short -intervals in his task {279} to emit his song. So taken up was he -with the feather-cleaning and singing, that he took no notice of me -when I walked to within twenty-five yards of him. By-and-by, in -passing one of his long flight-feathers through his beak it came out, -at which he appeared very much surprised. First he raised his head, -then began turning it about this way and that, as if admiring the -feather he held, or trying to get a better sight of it. For quite a -minute he kept it, forgetting to sing, then in turning it about he -accidentally dropped it. Bending his head down, he watched its slow -fall to the grass below very intently, and continued gazing down even -after it was on the ground; then, pulling himself together, he -resumed the feather-preening task, with its musical interludes. - -The worst day during the bad weather when the young cirl buntings -left the nest brought the wintry spell to an end. A few days of such -perfect weather followed that one could wish for no higher good than -to be alive on that green earth, beneath that blue sky. One could -best appreciate the crystal purity and divine blueness of the immense -space by watching the rooks revelling on high in the morning -sunshine, looking in their blackness against the crystalline blue -like bird-figures with outspread, motionless wings, carved out of -anthracite coal, and suspended by invisible wires in heaven. You -could watch them, a numerous company, moving upward in wide circles, -the sound of their voices coming fainter and fainter back to earth, -until at that vast height they seemed no bigger than humble-bees. - -{280} - -[Sidenote: The oak in August] - -This clarity of atmosphere had a striking effect, too, on the -appearance of the trees, and I could not help noticing the -superiority of the oak to all other forest trees in this connection. -There comes a time in late summer when at last it loses that "glad -light grene" which has distinguished it among its dark-leafed -neighbours, and made it in our eyes a type of unfading spring and of -everlastingness. It grows dark, too, at last, and is as dark as a -cypress or a cedar of Lebanon; but observe how different this depth -of colour is from that of the elm. The elm, too, stands alone, or in -rows, or in isolated groups in the fields, and in the clear sunshine -its foliage has a dull, summer-worn, almost rusty green. There is no -such worn and weary look in the foliage of the oak in August and -September. It is of a rich, healthy green, deep but undimmed by time -and weather, and the leaf has a gloss to it. Again, on account of -its manner of growth, with widespread branches and boughs and twigs -well apart, the foliage does not come before us as a mere dense mass -of green--an intercepting cloud, as in a painted tree; but the sky is -seen through it, and against the sky are seen the thousand thousand -individual leaves, clear-cut and beautiful in shape. - -It was one of my daily pleasures during this fine weather to go out -and look at one of the solitary oak trees growing in the adjoining -field when the morning sunlight was on it. To my mind it looked best -when viewed at a distance of sixty to seventy yards across the open -grass field with nothing but {281} the sky beyond. At that distance -not only could the leaves be distinctly seen, but the acorns as well, -abundantly and evenly distributed over the whole tree, appearing as -small globes of purest bright apple-green among the deep green -foliage. The effect was very rich, as of tapestry with an oak-leaf -pattern and colour, sprinkled thickly over with round polished gems -of a light-green sewn into the fabric. - -To an artist with a soul in him, the very sight of such a tree in -such conditions would, I imagined, make him sick of his poor little -ineffectual art. - - - - -{282} - -CHAPTER XIV - -Yellow flowers--Family likeness in flavours and scents--_Mimulus -luteus_--Flowers in church decoration--Effect of -association--_Mimulus luteus_ as a British plant--A rule as to -naturalised plants wanted--A visit to Swarraton--Changes since -Gilbert White's day--"Wild musk"--Bird life on the downs--Turtle-dove -nestlings--Blue skin in doves--A boy naturalist--Birds at the -cottage--The wren's sun-bath--Wild fruits ripen--An old chalk -pit--Birds and elderberries--Past and present times compared--Calm -days--Migration of swallows--Conclusion. - - -The oak in the field and a flowering plant by the water were the two -best things plant life contained for me during those beautiful late -summer days by the Itchen. About the waterside flower I must write -at some length. - -Of our wild flowers the yellow in colour, as a rule, attract me -least; not because the colour is not beautiful to me, but probably on -account of the numerous ungraceful, weedy-looking plants of -unpleasant scent which in late summer produce yellow flowers--tansy, -fleabane, ragwort, sow-thistle, and some of other orders, the worst -of the lot being the pepper saxifrage, an ungainly parsley in -appearance, with evil-smelling flowers. You know them by their -odours. If I were to smell at a number of strong-scented flowers -unknown to me in a dark room, or blindfolded, I should be able to -pick out the yellow ones. - -They would have the yellow smell. The yellow {283} smell has an -analogue in the purple taste. It may be fancy, but it strikes me -that there is a certain family resemblance in the flavours of most -purple fruits, or their skins--the purple fruit-flavour which is so -strong in damson, sloe, black currant, blackberry, mulberry, -whortleberry, and elderberry. - -All the species I have named were common in the valley, and there -were others--St. John's wort, yellow loosestrife, etc.--which, -although not ungraceful nor evil-smelling, yet failed to attract. -Nevertheless, as the days and weeks went on and brought yet another -conspicuous yellow waterside flower into bloom, which became more and -more abundant as the season advanced, while the others, one by one, -faded and failed from the earth, until, during the last half of -September, it was in its fullest splendour, I was completely won by -it, and said in my haste that it was the brightest blossom in all the -Hampshire garland, if not the loveliest wild flower in England. Nor -was it strange, all things considered, that I was so taken with its -beauty, since, besides being beautiful, it was new to me, and -therefore had the additional charm of novelty; and, finally, it was -at its best when all the conspicuous flowers that give touches of -brilliant colour here and there to the green of this greenest valley, -including most of the yellow flowers I have mentioned, were faded and -gone. - -[Sidenote: Mimulus luteus] - -No description of this flower, _Mimulus luteus_, known to the country -people as "wild musk," is needed here--it is well known as a garden -plant. The large foxglove-shaped flowers grow singly on {284} their -stems among the topmost leaves, and the form of stem, leaf, and -flower is a very perfect example of that kind of formal beauty in -plants which is called "decorative." This character is well shown in -the accompanying figure, reduced to little more than half the natural -size, from a spray plucked at Bransbury, on the Test. But the shape -is nothing, and is scarcely seen or noticed twenty-five to fifty -yards away, the proper distance at which to view the blossoming -plants; not indeed as a plant-student or an admirer of flowers in a -garden would view it, as the one thing to see, but merely as part of -the scene. The colour is then everything. There is no purer, no -more {285} beautiful yellow in any of our wild flowers, from the -primrose and the almost equally pale, exquisite blossom which we -improperly name "dark mullein" in our books on account of its lovely -purple eye, to the intensest pure yellow of the marsh marigold. - -[Illustration: MIMULUS LUTEUS] - -But although purity of colour is the chief thing, it would not of -itself serve to give so great a distinction to this plant; the charm -is in the colour and the way in which Nature has disposed it, -abundantly, in single, separate blossoms, among leaves of a green -that is rich and beautiful, and looks almost dark by contrast with -that shining, luminous hue it sets off so well. - -On 17th September it was Harvest Festival Sunday at the little church -at Itchen Abbas, where I worshipped that day, and I noticed that the -decorators had dressed up the font with water-plants and flowers from -the river; reeds and reed-mace, or cat's-tail, and the yellow -mimulus. It was a mistake. Deep green, glossy foliage, and white -and brilliantly coloured flowers look well in churches; white -chrysanthemums, arums, azaleas, and other conspicuous white flowers; -and scarlet geraniums, and many other garden blooms which seen in -masses in the sunshine hurt the sense--cinerarias, calceolarias, -larkspurs, etc. The subdued light of the interior softens the -intensity, and sometimes crudity, of the strongest colours, and makes -them suitable for decoration. The effect is like that of -stained-glass windows, or of a bright embroidery on a sober ground. -The graceful, grey, flowery reeds, and the light-green {286} -reed-mace, with its brown velvet head, and the moist yellow of the -mimulus, which quickly loses its freshness, look not well in the dim, -religious light of the old village church. These should be seen -where the sunlight and wind and water are, or not seen at all. - -[Sidenote: Mimulus and Camaloté] - -Beautiful as the mimulus is when viewed in its natural surroundings, -by running waters amidst the greys and light and dark greens of reed -and willow, and of sedge and aquatic grasses, and water-cress, and -darkest bulrush, its attractiveness was to me greatly increased by -association. Now to say that a flower which is new to one can have -any associations may sound very strange, but it is a fact in this -case. Viewing it at a distance of, say, forty or fifty yards, as a -flower of a certain size, which might be any shape, in colour a very -pure, luminous yellow, blooming in profusion all over the rich green, -rounded masses of the plants, as one may see it in September at -Ovington, and at many other points on the Itchen, from its source to -Southampton Water, and on the Test, I am so strongly reminded of the -yellow camaloté of the South American watercourses that the memory is -almost like an illusion. It has the pure, beautiful yellow of the -river camaloté; in its size it is like that flower; it grows, too, in -the same way, singly, among rounded masses of leaves of the same -lovely rich green; and the camaloté, too, has for neighbours the -green blades of the sedges, and grey, graceful reeds, and -multitudinous bulrushes, their dark polished stems tufted with brown. - -{287} - -Looking at these masses of blossoming mimulus at Ovington, I am -instantly transported in thought to some waterside thousands of miles -away. The dank, fresh smell is in my nostrils; I listen delightedly -to the low, silvery, water-like gurgling note of the little kinglet -in his brilliant feathers among the rushes, and to the tremulous song -of the green marsh-grasshoppers or leaf-crickets; and with a still -greater delight do I gaze at the lovely yellow flower, the -unforgotten camaloté, which is as much to me as the wee, modest, -crimson-tipped daisy was to Robert Burns or to Chaucer; and as the -primrose, the violet, the dog-rose, the shining, yellow gorse, and -the flower o' the broom, and bramble, and hawthorn, and purple -heather are to so many inhabitants of these islands who were born and -bred amid rural scenes. - -On referring to the books for information as to the history of the -mimulus as a British wild flower, I found that in some it was not -mentioned, and in others mentioned only to be dismissed with the -remark that it is an "introduced plant." But when was it introduced, -and what is its range? And whom are we to ask? - -After an infinite amount of pains, seeing and writing to all those -among my acquaintances who have any knowledge of our wild plant life, -I discovered that the mimulus grows more or less abundantly in or by -streams here and there in most English counties, but is more commonly -met with south of Derbyshire; also that it extends to Scotland, {288} -and is known even in the Orkneys. Finally, a botanical friend -discovered for me that as long ago as 1846 there had been a great -discussion, in which a number of persons took part, on this very -subject of the date of the naturalisation in Britain of the mimulus, -in Edward Newman's botanical magazine, the _Phytologist_. It was -shown conclusively by a correspondent that the plant had established -itself at one point as far back as the year 1815. - -[Sidenote: A British species?] - -There may exist more literature on the subject if one knew where to -look for it; but we are certainly justified in feeling annoyed at the -silence of the makers of books on British wild flowers, and the -compilers of local lists and floras. And what, we should like to ask -of our masters, is a British wild flower? Does not the same rule -apply to plants as to animals--namely, that when a species, whether -"introduced" or imported by chance or by human agency, has thoroughly -established itself on our soil, and proved itself able to maintain -its existence in a state of nature, it becomes, and is, a British -species? If this rule had not been followed by zoologists, even our -beloved little rabbit would not be a native, to say nothing of our -familiar brown rat and our black-beetle: and the pheasant, and -red-legged partridge, and capercailzie, and the fallow-deer, and a -frog, and a snail, and goodness knows how many other British species, -introduced into this country by civilised man, some in recent times. -And, going farther back in time, it may be said that every species -has at some time been brought, or has brought itself, from {289} -otherwhere--every animal from the red deer and the white cattle, to -the smallest, most elusive microbe not yet discovered; and every -plant from the microscopical fungus to the British oak and the yew. -The main thing is to have a rule in such a matter, a simple, sensible -rule, like that of the zoologist, or some other; and what we should -like to know from the botanists is--Have they got a rule, and, if so, -what is it? There are many who would be glad of an answer to this -question: judging from the sale of books on British wild flowers -during the last few years, there must be several millions of persons -in this country who take an interest in the subject. - -[Sidenote: A visit to Swarraton] - -One bright September day, when the mimulus was in its greatest -perfection, and my new pleasure in the flower at its highest, I by -chance remembered that Gilbert White, of Selborne, in the early part -of his career, had been curate for a time at Swarraton, a small -village on the Itchen, near its source, about four miles above -Alresford. That was in 1747. To Swarraton I accordingly went, only -to find what any guide-book or any person would have told me, that -the church no longer exists. Only the old churchyard remained, -overgrown with nettles, the few tombstones that had not been carried -away so covered with ivy as to appear like green mounds. A group of -a dozen yews marked the spot where the church had formerly stood; and -there were besides some very old trees, an ancient yew and a giant -beech, and others, and just outside the ground as noble an ash tree -as I have ever seen. These three, {290} at any rate, must have been -big trees a century and a half ago, and well known to Gilbert White. -On inquiry I was told that the church had been pulled down a very -long time back--about forty years, perhaps; that it was a very old -and very pretty church, covered with ivy, and that no one knew why it -was pulled down. The probable reason was that a vast church was -being or about to be built at the neighbouring village of -Northington, big enough to hold all the inhabitants of the two -parishes together, and about a thousand persons besides. This -immense church would look well enough among the gigantic structures -of all shapes and materials in the architectural wonderland of South -Kensington. But I came not to see this building: the little ancient -village church, in which the villagers had worshipped for several -centuries, where Gilbert White did duty for a year or so, was what I -wanted, and I was bitterly disappointed. Looking away from the -weed-grown churchyard, I began to wonder what his feelings would be -could he revisit this old familiar spot. The group of yew trees -where the church had stood, and the desolate aspect of the ground -about it would disturb and puzzle his mind; but, on looking farther, -all the scene would appear as he had known it so long ago--the round, -wooded hills, the green valley, the stream, and possibly some of the -old trees, and even the old cottages. Then his eyes would begin to -detect things new and strange. First, my bicycle, leaning against -the trunk of the great ash tree, would arrest his attention; but in -{291} a few moments, before he could examine it closely and consider -for what purpose it was intended, something far more interesting and -more wonderful to him would appear in sight. Five large birds -standing quietly on the green turf beside the stream--birds never -hitherto seen. Regarding them attentively, he would see that they -were geese, and it would appear to him that they were of two species, -one white and grey in colour, with black legs, the other a rich -maroon red, with yellow legs; also that they were both beautiful and -more graceful in their carriage than any bird of their family known -to him. Before he would cease wondering at the presence at Swarraton -of these Magellanic geese, no longer strange to any living person's -eye in England, lo! a fresh wonder--beautiful yellow flowers by the -stream, unlike any flower that grew there in his day, or by any -stream in Hampshire. - -But how long after White's time did that flower run wild in -Hampshire? I asked, and then thought that I might get the answer from -some old person who had spent a long life at that spot. - -I went no farther than the nearest cottage to find the very one I -wanted, an ancient dame of seventy-four, who had never lived anywhere -but in that small thatched cottage at the side of the old churchyard. -She was an excessively thin old dame, and had the appearance of a -walking skeleton in a worn old cotton gown; and her head was like a -skull with a thin grey skin drawn tightly over the sharp bones of the -face, with pale-coloured living eyes in {292} the sockets. Her -scanty grey hair was gathered in a net worn tightly on her head like -a skull-cap. The old women in the villages here still keep to this -long-vanished fashion. - -I asked this old woman to tell me about the yellow flowers by the -water, and she said that they had always been there. I told her she -must be mistaken; and after considering for awhile she assured me -that they grew there in abundance when she was quite young. She -distinctly remembered that before her marriage--and that was over -fifty years ago--she often went down to the stream to gather flowers, -and would come in with great handfuls of wild musk. - -When she had told me this, even before she had finished speaking, I -seemed to see two persons before me--the lean old woman with her thin -colourless visage, and, coming in from the sunshine, a young woman -with rosy face, glossy brown hair and laughing blue eyes, her hands -full of brightest yellow wild musk from the stream. And the -visionary woman seemed to be alive and real, and the other -unsubstantial, a delusion of the mind, a ghost of a woman. - -But was the old woman right--was the beautiful yellow mimulus, the -wild musk or water-buttercup as she called it, which our botanists -refuse to admit into their works intended for our instruction, or -give it only half a dozen dry words--was it a common wild flower on -the Hampshire rivers more than half a century ago? - -{293} - -[Sidenote: Bird life on the downs] - -From the valley and the river with its shining yellow mimulus and -floating water-grass in the crystal current--that green hair-like -grass that one is never tired of looking at--back to the ivy-green -cottage, its ancient limes and noble solitary oaks, and, above all, -its birds; then back again to the stream--that mainly was our life. -But close by on either side of the valley were the downs, and these -too drew us with that immemorial fascination which the higher ground -has for all of us, because of the sense of freedom and power which -comes with a wide horizon. That was a fine saying of Lord Herbert of -Cherbury that a man mounted on a good horse is lifted above himself: -one experiences the feeling in a greater degree on any chalk down. -One extensive open down within easy distance was a favourite -afternoon walk. Here on the short fragrant turf an army of pewits -were to be found every day, and usually there were a few -stone-curlews with them. It is not here as in the country about -Salisbury, where the Hawking Club has its headquarters, and where -they have been "having fun with the thick-knees," as they express it -in their lingo, until there are no thick-knees left. But the chief -attraction of this down was an extensive thicket of thorn and -bramble, mixed with furze and juniper and some good-sized old trees, -where birds were abundant, many of them still breeding. Here, down -to the end of September, I found turtle-doves' nests with -newly-hatched young and incubated eggs. I always felt more than -compensated for scratches {294} and torn clothes when I found young -turtle-doves in the down, as the little creatures are then delightful -to look at. Sitting hunched up on its platform, the head with its -massive bulbous beak drawn against its arched back, the little thing -is less like a bird than a mammal in appearance--a singularly -coloured shrew, let us say. The colour is indeed strange, the whole -body, the thick, fleshy, snout-like beak included, being a deep, -intense, almost indigo blue, and the loose hair-like down on the head -and upper parts a light, bright primrose yellow. - -There are surprising colours in some young birds: the cirl nestling, -as we have seen, is black and crimson--clothed in black down with -gaping crimson mouth; loveliest of all is the young snipe in down of -brown-gold, frosted with silvery white; but for quaintness and -fantastic colouring the turtle-dove nestling has no equal. In all of -our native doves, and probably in all doves everywhere, the skin is -blue and the down yellow, but the colours differ in intensity. I -tried to find a newly-hatched stock-dove to compare it with the -turtle nestling but failed, although the species is quite common and, -like the other two, breeds till October. Ring-dove nestlings were -easy to see, but in these the blue colour, though deep on the beak -and head, is quite pale on the body, fading almost to white on some -parts; and the down, too, is very pale, fading to whitish tow-colour -on the sides and back. - -[Sidenote: A boy naturalist] - -When seeking for a ring-dove in down I had an amusing adventure. At -a distance of some miles {295} from the Itchen, near the Test, one -day in September, I was hunting for an insect I wanted in a thick -copse by Tidbury Ring, an ancient earthwork on the summit of a chalk -hill. Hearing a boy's voice singing near, I peeped out and saw a lad -of about fifteen tending some sheep: he was walking about on his -knees, trimming the herbage with an old rusty pair of shears which he -had found! It startled him a little when I burst out of the cover so -near him, but he was ready to enter into conversation, and we had a -long hour together, sitting on the sunny down. I mentioned my desire -to find a newly-hatched ring-dove, and he at once offered to show me -one. There were two nests with young close by, in one the birds were -half-fledged, the others only came out of their shells two days -before. These we went to look for, the boy leading the way to a -point where the trees grew thickest. He climbed a yew, and from the -yew passed to a big beech tree, in which the nest was placed, but on -getting to it he cried out that the nest was forsaken and the young -dead. He threw them down to me, and he was grieved at their death as -he had known about the nest from the time it was made, and had seen -the young birds alive the day before. No doubt the parents had been -shot, and the cold night had quickly killed the little ones. - -This was the most intelligent boy I have met in Hampshire; he knew -every bird and almost every insect I spoke to him about. He was, -too, a mighty hunter of little birds, and had captured stock-doves -{296} and wheatears in the rabbit burrows. But his greatest feat was -the capture of a kingfisher. He was down by the river with a -sparrow-net at a spot where the bushes grow thick and close to the -water, when he saw a kingfisher come and alight on a dead twig within -three yards of him. The bird had not seen him standing behind the -bush: it sat for a few moments on the twig, its eyes fixed on the -water, then it dropped swiftly down, and he jumped out and threw the -net over it just as it rose up with a minnow in its beak. He took it -home and put it in a cage. - -I gave him a sharp lecture on the cruelty of caging kingfishers, -telling him how senseless it was to confine such a bird, and how -impossible to keep it alive in prison. It was better to kill them at -once if he wanted to destroy them. "Of course your kingfisher died," -I said. - -"No," he replied. He stood the cage on a chair, and the bird was no -sooner in it than his little sister, a child of two who was fidgeting -round, pulled the door open and out flew the kingfisher! - - -[Sidenote: Birds at the cottage] - -Returning to the cottage, whether from the high down, the green -valley, or the silent, shady wood, it always seemed a favourite -dwelling- or nesting-place of the birds, where indeed they most -abounded. Now that bright genial weather had come after the cold and -storm to make them happy, the air was full of their chirpings and -twitterings, their various little sounds of conversation and -soliloquy, with an {297} occasional bright, loud, perfect song. It -was generally the wren, whose lyric changes not through all the -changeful year, that uttered it. It was this small brown bird, too, -that amused me most with the spectacle of his irrepressible delight -in the new warmth and sunlight. There were about a dozen wrens at -the cottage, and some of them were in the habit of using their old -undamaged nests in the ivy and woodbine as snug little dormitories. -But they cared nothing for the human inhabitants of the cottage; they -were like small birds that had built their nest in the interstices of -an eagles' eyrie, who knew nothing and cared nothing about the -eagles. Occasionally, when a wren peeped in from the clustering ivy -or hopped on to a window-sill and saw us inside, he would scold us -for being there with that sharp, angry little note of his, and then -fly away. Nor would he take a crumb from the table spread out of -doors every day for the birds that disdained not to be fed. The ivy -and creepers that covered the cottage abounded with small spiders, -caterpillars, earwigs, chrysalids, and what not; that was good enough -for him--Thank you for your kind intentions! - -Looking from a window at a bed of roses a few feet away, I discovered -that the wren took as much pleasure in a dust bath as any bird. He -would come to the loose soil and select a spot where the bed sloped -towards the sun, and then wriggle about in the earth with immense -enjoyment. Dusting himself, he would look like a miniature partridge -with {298} a round body not much bigger than a walnut. After dusting -would come the luxurious sun-bath, when, with feathers raised and -minute wings spread out and beak gaping, the little thing would lie -motionless and panting; but at intervals of three or four seconds a -joyful fit of shivering would seize him, and at last, the heat -becoming too great, he would shake himself and skip away, looking -like a brown young field-vole scuttling into cover. - -This bright and beautiful period came to an end on 22nd August, and -we then had unsettled weather with many sudden changes until 3rd -September--cloudy oppressive days, violent winds, thunderstorms, and -days of rain and sunshine, and morning and evening rainbows; it was a -mixture of April, midsummer, and October. - -This changeful period over, there was fine settled weather; it was -the golden time of the year, and it continued till our departure on -the last day of September. - -The fruit season was late this year--nearly a fortnight later than in -most years; and when the earliest, the wild arum, began to ripen, the -birds--thrushes and chaffinches were detected--fell upon and devoured -all the berries, regardless of their poisonous character almost -before their light-green had changed to vivid scarlet. Then came the -deep crimson fruit of the honeysuckle; it ripened plentifully on the -plants growing against the cottage, and the cole-tits came in bands -to feed on it. It was pretty to see these airy little acrobats -clinging to the twine-like pendent sprays hanging before an open -window or door. {299} They were like the little birds in a Japanese -picture which one has seen. Then came the elderberries, which all -fruit-loving birds feast on together. But the tits and finches and -warblers and thrushes were altogether out-numbered by the starlings -that came in numbers from the pasture-lands to take part in the great -fruit-feast. - -[Sidenote: An old chalk pit] - -The elder is a common tree here, but at the cottage we had, I think, -the biggest crop of fruit in the neighbourhood; and it now occurs to -me that the vast old chalk pit in which the trees grew has not yet -been described, and so far has only been once mentioned incidentally. -Yet it was a great place, but a few yards away at the side of the old -lime trees and the small protecting fence. The entrance to it and -its wide floor was on a level with the green valley, while at its -upper end it formed a steep bank forty feet high. It was doubtless a -very old pit, with sides which had the appearance of natural cliffs -and were overhung and draped with thorn-trees, masses of old ivy, and -traveller's joy. Inside it was a pretty tangled wilderness; on the -floor many tall annuals flourished--knapweed and thistle and dark -mullein and teazel, six to eight feet high. Then came some -good-sized trees--ash and oak--and thorn, bramble and elder in -masses. It was a favourite breeding-place of birds of many species; -even the red-backed shrike had nested there within forty yards of a -human habitation, and the kingfisher had safely reared his young, -unsuspected by the barbarous water-keeper. The pit, too, was a -shelter in cold {300} rough weather and a roosting-place at night. -Now the fruit was ripe, it was a banqueting-place as well, and the -native birds were joined by roving outsiders, missel-thrushes in -scores, and starlings in hundreds. The noise they produced--a tangle -of so many various semi-musical voices--sounded all day long; and -until the abundant fruit had all been devoured the chalk pit was a -gigantic green and white bowl full to overflowing with sunshine, -purple juice, and melody. - -The biggest crop of this fruit, out of the old chalk pit, was in the -garden of a cottage in the village, close to the river, occupied by -an old married couple, hard workers still with spade and hoe, and -able to make a Living by selling the produce of their garden. It was -a curious place; fruit trees and bushes, herbs, vegetables, flowers, -all growing mixed up anyhow, without beds or walks or any line of -demarcation between cultivated plants and brambles and nettles on -either side and the flags and sedges at the lower end by the river. -In the midst of the plot, just visible among the greenery, stood the -small, old, low-roofed thatched cottage, where the hens were free to -go in and lay their eggs under the bed or in any dark corner they -preferred. A group of seven or eight old elder-trees grew close to -the cottage, their branches bent and hanging with the weight of the -purpling clusters. - -"What are you going to do with the fruit?" I asked the old woman; and -this innocent question raised a tempest in her breast, for I had -unwittingly touched on a sore subject. - -{301} - -[Sidenote: Past and present times] - -"Do!" she exclaimed rather fiercely, "I'm going to do nothing with -it! I've made elderberry wine years and years and years. So did my -mother; so did my grandmother; so did everybody in my time. And very -good it were, too, I tell 'e, in cold weather in winter, made hot. -It warmed your inside. But nobody wants it now, and nobody'll help -me with it. How'm I to do it--keep the birds off and all! I've been -fighting 'em years and years, and now I can't do it no longer. And -what's the good of doing it if the wine's not good enough for people -to drink? Nothing's good enough now unless you buys it in a -public-house or a shop. It wasn't so when I were a girl. We did -everything for ourselves then, and it were better, I tell 'e. We -kep' a pig then--so did everyone; and the pork and bacon it were -good, not like what we buy now. We put it mostly in brine, and let -it be for months; and when we took it out and biled it, it were red -as a cherry and white as milk, and it melted just like butter in your -mouth. That's what we ate in my time. But you can't keep a pig -now--oh dear, no! You don't have him more'n a day or two before the -sanitary man looks in. He says he were passing and felt a sort of -smell about--would you mind letting him come in just to have a sniff -round? He expects it might be a pig you've got. In my time we -didn't think a pig's smell hurt nobody. They've got their own smell, -pigs have, same as dogs and everything else. But we've got very -partickler about smells now. - -"And we didn't drink no tea then. Eight shillings {302} a pound, or -maybe seven-and-six--dear, dear, how was we to buy it! We had beer -for breakfast and it did us good. It were better than all these -nasty cocoa stuffs we drink now. We didn't buy it at the -public-house--we brewed it ourselves. And we had a brick oven then, -and could put a pie in, and a loaf, and whatever we wanted, and it -were proper vittals. We baked barley bread, and black bread, and all -sorts of bread, and it did us good and made us strong. These iron -ranges and stoves we have now--what's the good o' they? You can't -bake bread in 'em. And the wheat bread you gits from the shop, -what's it good for? 'Tisn't proper vittals--it fills 'e with wind. -No, I say, I'm not going to git the fruit--let the birds have it! -Just look at the greedy things--them starlings! I've shouted, and -thrown sticks and all sorts of things, and shaken a cloth at 'em, and -it's like calling the fowls to feed. The more noise I make the more -they come. What I say is, If I can't have the fruit I wish the -blackbirds 'ud git it. People say to me, 'Oh, don't talk to me about -they blackbirds--they be the worst of all for fruit.' But I never -minded that--because--well I'll tell 'e. I mind when I were a little -thing at Old Alresford, where I were born, I used to be up at four in -the morning, in summer, listening to the blackbirds. And mother she -used to say, 'Lord, how she do love to hear a blackbird!' It's -always been the same. I's always up at four, and in summer I goes -out to hear the blackbird when it do sing so beautiful. But them -starlings that come messing {303} about, pulling the straws out of -the thatch, I've no patience with they. We didn't have so many -starlings when I were young. But things is very different now; and -what I say is, I wish they wasn't--I wish they was the same as when I -were a girl. And I wish I was a girl again." - -Listening to this tirade on the degeneracy of modern times, it amused -me to recall the very different feeling on the same subject expressed -by the old Wolmer Forest woman. But the Itchen woman had more -vigour, more staying-power in her: one could see it in the fresh -colour in her round face, and the pure colour and brightness of her -eyes--brighter and bluer than in most blue-eyed girls. Altogether, -she was one of the best examples of the hard-headed, indomitable -Saxon peasants I have met with in the south of England. She was past -seventy, impeded by an old infirmity, the mother of many men and -women with big families of their own, all scattered far and wide over -the county,--all too poor themselves to help her in her old age, or -to leave their work and come such a distance to see her, excepting -when they were in difficulties, for then they would come for what she -could spare them out of her hardly-earned little hoard. - -I admired her "fierce volubility"; but that sudden softening at the -end about the blackbird's beautiful voice, and that memory of her -distant childhood, and her wish, strange in these weary days, to have -her hard life to live over again, came as a surprise to me. - -{304} - -[Sidenote: Migration of swallows] - -In days like these, so bright and peaceful, one thinks with a feeling -of wonder that many of our familiar birds are daily and nightly -slipping away, decreasing gradually in numbers, so that we scarcely -miss them. By the middle of September the fly-catchers and several -of the warblers, all but a few laggards, have left us. Even the -swallows begin to leave us before that date. On the 8th many birds -were congregated at a point on the river a little above the village, -and on the 10th a considerable migration took place. Near the end of -a fine day a big cloud came up from the north-west, and beneath it, -at a good height, the birds were seen flying down the valley in a -westerly direction. I went out and watched them for half an hour, -standing on the little wooden bridge that spans the stream. They -went by in flocks of about eighty to a couple of hundred birds, flock -succeeding flock at intervals of three or four minutes. By the time -the sun set the entire sky was covered by the black cloud, and there -was a thick gloom on the earth; it was then some eight or ten minutes -after the last flock, flying high, had passed twittering on its way -that a rush of birds came by, flying low, about on a level with my -head as I stood leaning on the handrail of the bridge. I strained my -eyes in vain to make out what they were--swallows or martins--as in -rapid succession, and in twos and threes, they came before me, seen -vaguely as dim spots, and no sooner seen than gone, shooting past my -head with amazing velocity and a rushing sound, fanning my face with -{305} the wind they created, and some of them touching me with their -wing-tips. - -On the evening of 18th September a second migration was witnessed at -the same spot, flock succeeding flock until it was nearly dark. On -the following evening, at another point on the river at Ovington, I -witnessed a third and more impressive spectacle. The valley spreads -out there to a great width, and has extensive beds of reeds, -bulrushes, and other water plants, with clumps and rows of alders and -willows. It was growing dark; bats were flitting round me in -numbers, and the trees along the edge of the valley looked black -against the pale amber sky in the west, when very suddenly the air -overhead became filled with a shrill confused noise, and, looking up -through my binocular, I saw at a considerable height an immense body -of swallows travelling in a south-westerly direction. A very few -moments after catching sight of them they paused in their flight, -and, after remaining a short time at one point, looking like a great -swarm of bees, they began rushing wildly about, still keeping up -their shrill excited twittering, and coming lower and lower by -degrees; and finally, in batches of two or three hundred birds, they -rushed down like lightning into the dark reeds, shower following -shower of swallows at intervals of two or three seconds, until the -last had vanished and the night was silent again. - -It was time for them to go, for though the days were warm and food -abundant, the nights were growing cold. - -{306} - -The early hours are silent, except for the brown owls that hoot round -the cottage from about four o'clock until dawn. Then they grow -silent, and the morning is come, cold and misty, and all the land is -hidden by a creeping white river-mist. The sun rises, and is not -seen for half an hour, then appears pale and dim, but grows brighter -and warmer by degrees; and in a little while, lo! the mist has -vanished, except for a white rag, clinging like torn lace here and -there to the valley reeds and rushes. Again, the green earth, wetted -with mist and dews, and the sky of that soft pure azure of yesterday -and of many previous days. Again the birds are vocal; the rooks rise -from the woods, an innumerable cawing multitude, their voices filling -the heavens with noise as they travel slowly away to their -feeding-grounds on the green open downs; the starlings flock to the -bushes, and the feasting and chatter and song begin that will last -until evening. The sun sets crimson and the robins sing in the night -and silence. But it is not silent long; before dark the brown owls -begin hooting, first in the woods, then fly across to the trees that -grow beside the cottage, so that we may the better enjoy their music. -At intervals, too we hear the windy sibilant screech of the white owl -across the valley. Then the wild cry of the stone-curlew is heard as -the lonely bird wings his way past, and after that late voice there -is perfect silence, with starlight or moonlight. - - - - -{307} - -INDEX - -_Account of English Ants_, by the Rev. W. Gould, quoted, 88, 93 - -Adder, life remaining in severed head of, 76; its basking-place, 80; -its consciousness of human presence, 82 - -"Adder-stinger," New Forest name for the dragon-fly, 121 - -Agarics eaten by squirrels, 106 - -Alarm-cries of birds, 94 - -Alga, an aerial, 195; still essentially a water-plant, 195 - -America, South, dragon-flies in, 122; the camaloté in, 286; a wasp -experience in, 129 - -_Anax imperator_ in the New Forest, 118 - -Anglers, swifts occasionally caught by, 265 - -Anglo-Saxon settlers, a conquering race, 228, 230 - -Ants, removal of dead by, 87; behaviour of, towards queen, 88; -caterpillar hunting by, 92; vast populations of, 111 - -Arum, berries of, eaten by birds, 298 - -_Asilus_, a rapacious fly, 46 - -Associations, sympathy with lower animals due to human, 43, 46; -memories recalled by, 107-109; value of, in matters of faith, 186; -charm due to, 286 - -Autumn in the New Forest, 1 - - -Bank-vole and hornet, 9 - -Bankes, Mr. E. A., his observation of nightjars, 39 - -Barrow on the heath, the, 48-52 - -Beaulieu, historical associations of, 36; a heath near, 38 - -Beddoes, Thomas Lovell, quoted as to the fire-fly, 125 - -Bellamy, J. C., his _Natural History of North Devon_ referred to, 251 - -Bird-life, annual destruction of, 26 - -Birds near the Boldre, 6; their silence in late summer, 89; mixed -gatherings of, 90; alarm cries of, 94; by the Itchen, 249 - -Blackbird, mortality among young of, 56; an orphan, by the Itchen, -270; tamed by feeding, 272; gregarious instinct in the young, 274 - -Blackburn, Mrs. Hugh, her account of the young cuckoo, 14 - -Blackmoor, church at, 191 - -Boldre or Lymington river, 3; a house by the, 4; between the Exe and -the, 29, 35 - -Bourne, the, or Selborne stream, 171 - -Boy, a New Forest, 158; his ignorance of the Forest wild life, 159; a -naturalist, 295 - -Boys, stray, in Wolmer, 216 - -Bracken, possible cause of pleasure in appearance of, 63 - -Brockenhurst, _Croöleptus iolithus_ on gravestones at, 195 - -Bullfinches, 188 - -Bunting, four kinds of, by the Itchen, 278 - -Butterflies of the New Forest, 117; moths and, collectors of, 120; -English names of, 120 - - -_Calopteryx virgo_ in the Forest, 118; colouring of, 122 - -Camaloté, its appearance recalled by mimulus, 286 - -Cats, Egyptian, story of their fascination by fire, 99 - -Cattle tormented by forest flies, 66 - -Celt, the black, Iberian origin of, 236; Huxley, a specimen of the, -240 - -Chaffinch, its especial dread of the weasel, 94-96; arum berries -eaten by the, 298 - -Chalk-pit by the Itchen, fruit harvest for birds in, 299 - -Churches of Hampshire villages, 184; Gilbert White's strictures on, -184; their charm, 185; wanton destruction of, 186; their harmony with -their surroundings, 187, 190 - -_Cicada anglica_, doubt as to his song, 135, 136 - -Cirl-bunting, the, at Selborne, 172; quality of its voice, 173; not -distinguished by White from the yellowhammer, 173; by the Itchen, -250; his song, 251; his plumage, 251; its late breeding, 275; its -breeding habits, 275; its warning note, 276; safeguarding of young -by, 276 - -_Cladothrix odorifera_, scent of fresh earth due to, 154 - -Cockchafer grubs sought for by starlings, 57 - -Cockerel and martins at Selborne, 166 - -Cole-tit, honeysuckle berries eaten by, 298 - -Contrast a source of enjoyment, 203 - -Coot, the, on the Itchen, 253, 254; his struggles with grebe for -water-weed, 255; his parental wisdom, 256; greediness of young -corrected by, 257 - -_Cordulegaster annulatus_, 118; his serpent-like colouring, 121 - -Courtship by stag-beetle, 71; among the green grasshoppers, 151; -among the flower-spiders, 156, 159 - -Craig, Mr., his observations on the nestling cuckoo, 21 - -Creighton, Dr., on the young cuckoo question, 14 - -Crickets, house and field, their music compared, 169 - -_Croöleptus iolithus_, beautiful tints of the, 195 - -Crowhurst, hollow yew tree at, 199 - -Cuckoo, young, its behaviour, 13; in robin's nest, 15; its rapid -growth, 15; its spasmodic efforts to eject obstacles, 16-20 - - -Dabchick, _see_ Grebe, little - -Dark people in Hampshire, 231; two types of them, 231; mutual -distrust between blonde and, 234; Iberian origin of one type 236 - -Dark Water, the, 38; flies on the, 67; _Calopteryx virgo_ on the, 122 - -"Deadman's Plack," memorial cross at, 140 - -Death, life-appearances after, 77; unknown to lower animals, 86 - -_Death of Fergus_ quoted as to the yew, 196 - -Degeneration, Ray Lankester on, 149 - -Dog, his recollection of a hidden bone, 108 - -Domestication, change in habits caused by, 169 - -Dragon-flies, lack of English names for, 118; their strange -appearance, 121; a flight of blue, settled on bracken, 123 - -Drayton, Michael, quoted as to the coot, 258 - -Drumming or bleating of snipe, 40 - -Drumming-trees of woodpeckers, 11-13 - -Dust-bath, a wren's enjoyment of a, 296 - - -Earth, odour of, 154 - -Edgar, King, memorial of his murder of Athelwold, 140 - -Eggs, ejection of, by young cuckoo, 16-19, 22 - -Elaboration and degeneration, 148 - -Elderberries by the Itchen, 298 - -Emblems on old gravestones, 193 - -_Epeira_, grasshopper killed by, 44 - -Ephemerę, destruction of, by swifts, 267 - -Exe, valley of the, 35 - -Eye colours, racial feeling with regard to, 234 - - -Family, a more or less happy, 254, 258 - -Farringdon, cirl bunting at, 173; Gilbert White curate at, 197; yew -tree at, 198 - -Fascination, question of, 95; the weasel's method of, 96; as exerted -on mammals, 97; inquiry as to interpretation of, 101; its -disadvantage to those subject to it, 102; as exerted by diving-birds -on fishes, 262 - -Fear, paralysing effect of, on birds and mammals, 96-100; on fishes, -262 - -"Fiddlers," flies eaten by, 68 - -Field-crickets, sound of, 169; a colony of, near Southampton, 170 - -Fire, fascination of, for cats, 99; for certain Hampshire pigs, 101 - -Fire-fly, comparison of, with glow-worm, 124; described by Beddoes, -125 - -Fish, capture of, by diving-birds, 262 - -Fishing, instruction in, given by parent grebes, 261 - -Flavour, purple, of certain fruits, 283 - -Fleas, their adaptation in size to their host, 104 - -Forest fly, his tenacity, 34; cattle tormented by, 66 - -Fox, alarm cry of birds at sight of, 94 - -Fritillary, silver-washed, 117 - - -Gauchos, singing contests among the, 146 - -Gentry, the, a mixed race, 222 - -Gipsies of the South of England, 158 - -Glow-worm, shining of, after death, 78; impression produced by light -of, 124; comparison of, with the fire-fly, 124; quality of its light, -125; doubts as to purpose of the light, 127 - -Goldfinch, the, by the Itchen, 249 - -"Good-for-nothing grass," 141, 147 - -Gould, Rev. W., his _Account of English Ants_ quoted, 88, 93 - -Grass, false brome, great grasshoppers in the, 141; floating, in -Hampshire rivers, 243, 293 - -Grasshopper, spider and, 43; black, _see Thamnotrizon_; great green, -134, 137; his music, 138; rival minstrelsy of, 142; kicking and -biting, 144; the female, 147; her character and habits, 149-152 - -Grave, single, under the Selborne yew, 202, 218 - -Gravestones, old, their beauty, 192; their sculptured emblems, 193; -nature's softening touches on, 194; under the Hurstbourne Priors yew, -201 - -Grebe, the little, a persecuted bird, 254; attentions to his mate, -255; his breeding difficulties, 260; his dogged perseverance, 260; -fishing taught by parents to the young, 261 - - -Habit, tyranny of, 165 - -Hampshire, characteristics of the people of, 220; blonde and dark -types in, 224; blonde type a mixed race, 227; Saxon race in, 227; the -dark type, 231 - -Harewood Forest, colony of great green grasshoppers in, 140 - -Harris, Moses, his _Exposition of English Insects_ quoted, 119 - -Harvest mouse feeding on dock seed, 8 - -Hawfinch, hunger cry of young, 92 - -Hawking Club, extermination of stone-curlews by, 293 - -Hawk-moth and meadow-pipit, 116 - -Herodotus quoted as to behaviour of cats fascinated by fire, 99 - -Herons at Hollywater Clump, 210 - -Hollywater Clump, 209 - -Honeysuckle, night fragrance of, 58, 270; berries of, eaten by -cole-tit, 298 - -Horn-blower, the Selborne, _see_ Newland - -Hornet, bank-vole and, 9; fine appearance of the, 128; a South -American, 129; his rarity, 130; in late autumn, 131 - -Horse-ants, struggle of, with caterpillar, 92 - -"Horse-stingers," 121 - -House-crickets, their abundance at Selborne 168 - -House-martins, diminished number of, at Selborne, 174 - -Humming-bird hawk-moth, beauty of, 113, 115 - -Hunger cry of young birds, parental sensibility to, 23, 91; of young -blackbird, 55; of young cirl bunting, 277 - -Hurstbourne Priors, yew tree in churchyard at, 201 - -Huxley on the non-Saxon shape of English heads, 231; quoted as to his -own parentage, 240 - - -Iberian type in Hampshire, 235; its persistence, 236; its possible -restoration, 237; its dominant qualities, 238, 239; Huxley's mother -an example of the, 240 - -Influences, pre-natal, possible results of, 100; over-susceptibility -possibly due to, 102 - -Insect life, sound of, 65 - -Insect notables, 113, 123, 130, 177 - -Insects, honey-eating, in lime trees, 248; rapacious, caterpillars -destroyed by, 92; comparative fewness of, in Britain, 110; as viewed -by the indoor mind, 111 - -Instinct, possible over-elaboration of, 102, 148, 262 - -Ironstone in Wolmer Forest, 205 - -Itchen, the river, compared with the Test, 245; a fishing cottage by -the, 245, 296; water-birds on the, 252 _et seqq._; an old cottage by -the, 300 - -Ivy blossoms, insects feasting on, 131 - - -Jackdaw, the, a wind lover, 211 - -Jay, the, a caterpillar hunter, 91; in Harewood Forest, 140 - -Jenner, Dr., his account of the young cuckoo, 13 - -Jute type of man in Hampshire, 222 - - -Kestrels with young, 65 - -"Kingfisher," an old name for dragon-fly, 120 - -Kingfisher, capture of a, 296; nesting in chalk-pit, 298 - - -Langland, quotation from, 52 - -Leaves, tint of fallen, 2 - -Life-principle, divisibility of, 75, 76 - -Lime-trees by the Itchen cottage, 246, 248; bird visitors to the, 248 - -Ling, beauty of, in Wolmer Forest, 204 - -Locust family, England their northern limit, 177 - -_Locusta viridissima_, see Grasshopper, the great green - -Loe, Mr., his _Yew Trees of Great Britain and Ireland_ referred to, -200 - -Lucas, Mr. W. T., his monograph on British dragon-flies quoted, 122 - -Lymington river, _see_ Boldre - -Lyndhurst, 154 - - -Mallards in Wolmer, 213 - -Mammals, woodland tint of, 2 - -Martyr Worthy, a little dark girl at, 240 - -Mayfly, the, decrease in its numbers, 266 - -Meadow-pipit, its struggle with hawk-moth, 116 - -Memory, lower kind of, 108 - -Migration, gradual, of swallows, 304 - -_Mimulus luteus_ in Hampshire, 283; purity of its colour, 284; South -American associations with, 286; as a British plant, 287; its wide -British range, 287; at Swarraton, 291; old woman's early memories of, -292 - -Mitford, Miss, on the lack of beauty in Berkshire faces, 182 - -Mob, the Selborne, 206 - -Monograph on fleas wanted, 105; on man in Hampshire wanted, 222 - -Monographs, Huxley on the peril of, 105 - -Moor-hen, an inquisitive, 213; the, on the Itchen, 253; nest of, on -floating water-weeds, 254 - -Mosaics, cause of pleasure given by sight of, 64 - -Moth, death's-head, its beauty, 115; and rarity, 116 - -Musk mallow, the, at Selborne, 171 - - -Names, English, lack of, for dragon-flies, 118, 120; for insects, 178 - -Neolithic times, Iberians in Britain during, 236, 237 - -Nestlings, ejection of, by cuckoo, 16-23; strange coloration of, 15, -294 - -New Forest, abuses of the, 29; paucity of wild life in, 31; its -future management, 33; butterflies of the, 117; hornets in the, 130 - -Newland, the Selborne hornblower, 206, 217; his capture and pardon, -207, 218; his grave under the yew tree, 218 - -Newman, Edward, colony of green grasshoppers mentioned in his -_Entomologist_, 139; his _Phytologist_ referred to as to the mimulus, -288 - -Nightingale, date of cessation of its song, 89 - -Nightjar, its care of the young, 39 - -Nore Hill, view from, 183 - -Norfolk, the churches of, compared with those of Hants, 185 - -Northington, immense church at, 290 - - -Oak woods, attractiveness of, 90; distinguishing beauty of, in -autumn, 280 - -Oast-house, old, at Farringdon, 198 - -Open spaces, the love of, 38 - -Ovington, watching swifts at, 266; reed-bunting at, 278; mimulus -blossoming at, 286; swallows congregating at, 305 - -Owl, tawny, voice of, 4; a white, at Alton, 164; brown, by the -Itchen, 306 - - -Pain, undue sensibility to, 25; indispensable to life, 26 - -Parsons, Mr., formerly vicar of Selborne, 218 - -Peasantry, racial types best found among the, 223; ancient and -modern, compared, 301 - -Pen Ponds in Richmond Park, a coot comedy on, 256 - -Pewit, his wailing complaints, 42; a dead young, 85 - -Pigeons, three kinds of, by the Itchen, 249; blue colour of young, 294 - -Pigmentation, variation in intensity of, 233 - -Pigs, certain, insane attraction of fire for, 101 - -Pike, its attempt to seize a swallow, 36 - -Pixie mounds, 47, 48 - -_Polyergus rufescens_, over-specialisation of, 149 - -_Polygonum persicaria_, coot feeding on, 256 - -Pond-skaters, flies eaten by, 68 - -Priors Dean, small church at, 188 - -Privett, large new church at, 190 - - -Queen ant, deferential treatment of, 88 - - -Rabbit, paralysing effect of stoat's presence on, 97, 100 - -Races, successive absorption of, in England, 236 - -Rain, swifts and swallows not affected by, 268 - -Redshank, breeding of, 41 - -Reed-bunting, song of, 278 - -Ring-dove, young of, 294 - -Robin, cuckoo's egg in nest of, 15; ejection of eggs and young of, by -young cuckoo, 16-23; an ejected nestling, 22; parental insensibility, -23 - -Rose, cult of the, 58 - - -Sand-martins, late migration of, 269; a dead one, 269 - -Saxon type, the, in Hampshire, 227, 303; occasional reversion to the, -228; comparison of, with Iberian, 239 - -Scent, unpleasing, of yellow flowers, 282 - -Seebohm on stories of the young cuckoo, 14 - -Selborne, idle visitors to, 161; a second visit to, 163; bird -incidents observed at, 164; a third visit, 167; temperature of, 168; -house-crickets at, 168; musk mallow in churchyard, 171; cirl bunting -at, 172; its enervating air, 181; beauty of the common, 182; yew tree -in churchyard, 198, 199; the "mob" at, 206 - -Shepherd near Winchester, his wages, 227; a Saxon, on the downs, 229 - -Shrews, young, 10; dead, abundance of fleas on, 105 - -Shrike, red-backed, 299 - -Silchester, mosaics at, 64 - -Snake-skin, apparent continued vitality of, 77 - -Snipe, breeding habits of, 40, 41; in Wolmer, 215; beauty of young, -294 - -Sounds, pleasure in, affected by conventions, 169 - -South Hayling, curious yew tree at, 200 - -Spider killing grasshopper, 44; a flower-haunting, 155 - -Squirrel, visit from a, 10; a dead, 103; fatal fall of, 104; fleas -on, 104, 105; his irritable temper, 106; his memory of hidden food, -107 - -Stag-beetle, "stags and does," 69; in search of a mate, 71; striking -a scent, 72; unconscious comedy of the, 74; life remaining in severed -head, 75 - -Starling, note of, 3; his search for cockchafer grubs, 57; his untidy -habits, 210; his varied language, 210; increase in his numbers, 303 - -Stoat, rabbit's helplessness when chased by, 97 - -Stonechat, his note of trouble, 41 - -Stone-curlews, extermination of, by Hawking Club, 293 - -Stridulation of grasshoppers, 134; of crickets, 169 - -Swallow and pike on the Exe, 36 - -Swarraton, White formerly curate of, 289; church at, pulled down, -289; changes in, since White's day, 290; old woman's recollections of -mimulus at, 292 - -Swifts, the, at Selborne, 172, 174; evening gatherings of, 175; on -the Itchen, 264; destruction of May flies by, 267 - -Swinton, A. H., quoted as to _Cicada anglica_, 135 - - -Teal, Wolmer a breeding-place of, 212; his lively disposition, 214, -215 - -_Thamnotrizon cinereus_ at Selborne, 177; his habits, 178; voice and -disposition, 179 - -_Thomisus citreus_, its habits, 155; its wooing antics, 156 - -Thrush, young, 55; arum berries eaten by, 298 - -Tidbury Ring, 295 - -Tit, long-tailed, nest of, 7 - -Traherne, Thomas, quoted, 38 - -Trees, age of, 199 - -Turtle-doves in Wolmer, 212; appearance of young, 294 - - -Varieties, racial, in Southern English people, 220 - -Vegetation by Hampshire streams, 242, 243, 247 - -Villages, characteristic Hampshire, along the rivers, 243 - -Viper, _see_ Adder - -Vole hunted by weasel, 97 - -Voles, field and bank, 8 - - -Wagtail, a pied, at Selborne, 165 - -Wallace, Dr. A. R., as to the cuckoo controversy, 13 - -Warning note of cirl bunting, 276, 277 - -Water-birds on the Itchen, 252, 258 - -Water-keeper on the Itchen, destruction of grebes' nests by, 254; on -the Test, his opinion as to dragon-flies, 119 - -Water-rail on the Itchen, 259 - -Watson, William, on "world-strangeness," 47 - -Weasel, the, his place in nature, 7; dreaded by small birds, 94; his -fascination-dance, 95; his pursuit of field-vole, 97 - -Wheatham Hill, wide view from, 184 - -White admiral, 117 - -White, Gilbert, his strictures on Hampshire churches, 184; his -connection with Farringdon, 197; Farringdon yew not mentioned by, -199; vain attempts after reminiscences of, 206; his description of -Wolmer Forest, 210; his curacy at Swarraton, 289 - -Whitethroat attacked by lesser whitethroat, 61 - -Whitethroat, lesser, song of, 60, 138 - -Wild musk at Selborne, 171 - -Willughby, his suggestion as to colour, 37 - -Wine, elderberry, a forgotten vintage, 301 - -Wolmer Forest, first impression of, 203; colour of streams in, 205; -Holly-water Clump in, 209; White's description of, 210; its bird -population, 211 - -Woman, a young, of Hampshire type, 232; an old, her recollection of -wild musk, 292; an old, a praiser of past times,300 - -Wood owl, carrying power of voice of, 4 - -Woodpeckers, green, drumming by, 9; in Hollywater Clump, 210; great -spotted, 12; small spotted, 12 - -Wren, its continued use of old nest, 297; its sun-bath, 297 - -Wren, golden-crested, nest of, 6 - - -Yellow flowers, want of attraction in, 282; the smell of, 282 - -Yellowhammer not distinguished by White from the cirl bunting, 173 - -Yew tree, at Priors Dean, 190; its association with the dead, 196; -called the "Hampshire weed," 197; at Farringdon, 197, 199; at -Selborne, 198, 218; slow growth of, 199; growth of new bark in, 199; -at Crowhurst, 199; at Hurstbourne Priors, 201; possible injury to -roots of, from grave-digging, 201 - - - - - PRINTED BY - THE TEMPLE PRESS AT LETCHWORTH - IN GREAT BRITAIN - - - - - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hampshire Days, by W. 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H. Hudson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Hampshire Days - -Author: W. H. Hudson - -Release Date: August 2, 2019 [EBook #60041] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HAMPSHIRE DAYS *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines - - - - - -</pre> - - -<h1> -<br /><br /> - HAMPSHIRE<br /> - DAYS<br /> -</h1> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3b"> - BY<br /> -</p> - -<p class="t2"> - W. H. HUDSON<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - 1923<br /> - J. M. DENT & SONS LTD.<br /> - LONDON & TORONTO<br /> - PARIS: J. M. DENT ET FILS<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t4"> -All rights reserved -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - INSCRIBED TO<br /> - SIR EDWARD AND LADY GREY<br /> - NORTHUMBRIANS<br /> - WITH HAMPSHIRE WRITTEN IN THEIR HEARTS<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3b"> -CONTENTS -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap01">CHAPTER I.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -Autumn in the New Forest—Red colour in mammals—November -mildness—A house by the Boldre—An ideal -spot for small birds—Abundance of nests—Small -mammals and the weasel's part—Voles and mice—Hornet -and bank-vole—Young shrews—A squirrel's -visit—Green woodpecker's drumming-tree—Drumming -of other species—Beauty of great spotted woodpecker—The -cuckoo controversy—A cuckoo in a robin's -nest—Behaviour of the cuckoo—Extreme irritability—Manner -of ejecting eggs and birds from the nest—Loss -of irritability—Insensibility of the parent robins—Discourse -on mistaken kindness, pain and death in -nature, the annual destruction of bird life, and the -young cuckoo's instinct. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap02">CHAPTER II.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -Between the Boldre and the Exe—Abuse of the New -Forest—Character of the population—New Forest code and -conscience—A radical change foreshadowed—Tenacity -of the Forest fly—Oak woods of Beaulieu—Swallow and -pike—Charm of Beaulieu—Instinctive love of open -spaces—A fragrant heath—Nightjars—Snipe—Redshanks—Pewits—Cause -of sympathy with animals—Grasshopper -and spider—A rapacious fly—Melancholy -moods—Evening on the heath—"World-strangeness"—Pixie -mounds—Death and burial—The dead in -the barrows—Their fear of the living. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap03">CHAPTER III.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -A favourite New Forest haunt—Summertide—Young blackbird's -call—Abundance of blackbirds and thrushes, and -destruction of young—Starlings breeding—The good -done by starlings—Perfume of the honeysuckle—Beauty -of the hedge rose—Cult of the rose—Lesser -whitethroat—His low song—Common and lesser -whitethroat—In the woods—A sheet of bracken—Effect of -broken surfaces—Roman mosaics at Silchester—Why -mosaics give pleasure—Woodland birds—Sound of -insect life—Abundance of flies—Sufferings of -cattle—Dark Water—Biting and teasing flies—Feeding the -fishes and fiddlers with flies. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -The stag-beetle—Evening flight—Appearance on the -wing—Seeking a mate—Stag and doe in a hedge—The -plough-man and the beetle—A stag-beetle's fate—Concerning -tenacity of life—Life appearances after death—A -serpent's skin—A dead glow-worm's light—Little -summer tragedies—A snaky spot—An adder's -basking-place—Watching adders—The adder's senses—Adder's -habits not well known—A pair of anxious pewits—A -dead young pewit—Animals without knowledge -of death—Removal of the dead by ants—Gould's -observations on ants. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap05">CHAPTER V.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -Cessation of song—Oak woods less silent than -others—Mixed gatherings of birds in oak woods—Abundance of -caterpillars—Rapacious insects—Wood ants—Alarm -cries of woodland birds—Weasel and small -birds—Fascination—Weasel and short-tailed vole—Account -of Egyptian cats fascinated by fire—Rabbits and -stoats—Mystery of fascination—Cases of pre-natal -suggestion—Hampshire pigs fascinated by fire—Conjectures -as to the origin of fascination—A dead squirrel—A -squirrel's fatal leap—Fleas large and small—Shrew -and fleas—Fleas in woods—The squirrel's -disposition—Food-hiding habit in animals—Memory in squirrels and -dogs—The lower kind of memory. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -Insects in Britain—Meadow ants—The indoor view of insect -life—Insects in visible nature—The humming-bird -hawk-moth and the parson lepidopterist—Rarity of -death's-head moth—Hawk-moth and meadow-pipit—Silver-washed -fritillaries on bracken—Flight of the -white admiral butterfly—Dragon-flies—Want of -English names—A water-keeper on dragon-flies—Moses -Harris—Why moths have English names—Origin -of the dragon-fly's bad reputation—<i>Cordulegaster -annulatus</i>—<i>Calopteryx virgo</i>—Dragon-flies -congregated—Glow-worm—Firefly and glow-worm -compared—Variability in light—The insect's attitude when -shining—Supposed use of the light—Hornets—A long-remembered -sting—The hornet local in England—A splendid -insect—Insects on ivy blossoms in autumn. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -Great and greatest among insects—Our feeling for insect -music—Crickets and grasshoppers—<i>Cicada anglica</i>—<i>Locusta -viridissima</i>—Character of its music—Colony -of green grasshoppers—Harewood Forest—Purple -emperor—Grasshoppers' musical contests—The -naturalist mocked—Female <i>viridissima</i>—Over-elaboration -in the male—Habits of female—Wooing of the male -by the female. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -Hampshire, north and south—A spot abounding in -life—Lyndhurst—A white spider—Wooing spider's antics—A -New Forest little boy—Blonde gipsies—The boy and -the spider—A distant world of spiders—Selborne and -its visitors—Selborne revisited—An owl at Alton—A -wagtail at the Wakes—The cockerel and the martin—Heat -at Selborne—House crickets—Gilbert White on -crickets—A colony of field crickets—Water plants—Musk -mallow—Girl buntings at Selborne—Evening -gatherings of swifts at Selborne—Locustidę—<i>Thamnotrizon -cinereus</i>—English names wanted—Black -grasshopper's habits and disposition—Its abundance -at Selborne. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -The Selborne atmosphere—Unhealthy faces—Selborne -Common—Character of scenery—Wheatham Hill—Hampshire -village churches—Gilbert White's strictures—Churches -big and little—The peasants' religious -feeling—Charm of old village churches—Seeking -Priors Dean—Privett church—Blackmoor -church—Churchyards—Change in gravestones—Beauty of -old gravestones—Red alga on gravestones—Yew -trees in churchyards—British dragon-tree—Farringdon -village and yew—Crowhurst yew—Hurstbourne -Priors yew—How yew trees are injured. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap10">CHAPTER X.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -Wolmer Forest—Charm of contrast and novelty in -scenery—Aspect of Wolmer—Heath and pine—Colour of water -and soil—An old woman's recollections—Story of the -"Selborne mob"—Past and present times -compared—Hollywater Clump—Age of trees—Bird life in -the forest—Teal in their breeding haunts—Boys -in the forest—Story of the horn-blower. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap11">CHAPTER XI.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -The Hampshire people—Racial differences in neighbouring -counties—A neglected subject—Inhabitants of towns—Gentry -and peasantry—Four distinct types—The -common blonde type—Lean women—Deleterious effects -of tea-drinking—A shepherd's testimony—A mixed -race—The Anglo-Saxon—Case of reversion of type—Un-Saxon -character of the British—Dark-eyed Hampshire -people—Racial feeling with regard to eye-colours—The -Iberian type—Its persistence—Character of the -small dark man—Dark and blonde children—A dark -village child. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap12">CHAPTER XII.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -Test and Itchen—Vegetation—Riverside villages—The -cottage by the river—Itchen valley—Blossoming -limes—Bird visitors—Goldfinch—Cirl -bunting—Song—Plumage—Three common river birds—Coots—Moor-hen -and nest—Little grebes' struggles—Male grebe's -devotion—Parent coot's wisdom—A more or less happy -family—Dogged little grebes—Grebes training their -young—Fishing birds and fascination. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -Morning in the valley—Abundance of swifts—Unlikeness to -other birds—Mayfly and swallows—Mayfly and swift—Bad -weather and hail—Swallows in the rain—Sand -martins—An orphaned blackbird—Tamed by feeding—Survival -of gregarious instinct in young blackbirds—Blackbird's -good-night—Cirl buntings—Breeding habits -and language—Habits of the young—Reed -bunting—Beautiful weather—The oak in August. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> -<a href="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV.</a> -</p> - -<p class="contents"> -Yellow flowers—Family likeness in flavours and -scents—<i>Mimulus luteus</i>—Flowers in church decoration—Effect -of association—<i>Mimulus luteus</i> as a British plant—A -rule as to naturalised plants wanted—A visit to -Swarraton—Changes since Gilbert White's day—"Wild -musk"—Bird life on the downs—Turtle-dove nestlings—Blue -skin in doves—A boy naturalist—Birds at the cottage—The -wren's sun-bath—Wild fruits ripen—An old chalk -pit—Birds and elderberries—Past and present times -compared—Calm days—Migration of swallows—Conclusion. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P1"></a>1}</span></p> - -<p class="t2"> -HAMPSHIRE DAYS -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER I -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -Autumn in the New Forest—Red colour in mammals—November -mildness—A house by the Boldre—An ideal spot for small -birds—Abundance of nests—Small mammals and the weasel's -part—Voles and mice—Hornet and bank-vole—Young -shrews—A squirrel's visit—Green woodpecker's -drumming-tree—Drumming of other species—Beauty of great spotted -woodpecker—The cuckoo controversy—A cuckoo in a -robin's nest—Behaviour of the cuckoo—Extreme irritability—Manner -of ejecting eggs and birds from the nest—Loss -of irritability—Insensibility of the parent robins—Discourse -on mistaken kindness, pain and death in nature, the annual -destruction of bird life, and the young cuckoo's instinct. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Here, by chance, in the early days of -December 1902, at the very spot where my book -begins, I am about to bring it to an end. -</p> - -<p> -A few days ago, coming hither from the higher -country at Silchester, where the trees were already -nearly bare, I was surprised to find the oak woods -of this lower southern part of the New Forest still in -their full autumnal foliage. Even now, so late in the -year, after many successive days and nights of rain -and wind, they are in leaf still: everywhere the woods -are yellow, here where the oak predominates; the -stronger golden-red and russet tints of the beech are -vanished. We have rain and wind on most days, or -rather mist and rain by day and wind with storms -of rain by night; days, too, or parts of days, when it -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P2"></a>2}</span> -is very dark and still, and when there is a universal -greyness in earth and sky. At such times, seen against -the distant slaty darkness or in the blue-grey misty -atmosphere, the yellow woods look almost more -beautiful than in fine weather. -</p> - -<p> -The wet woodland roads and paths are everywhere -strewn, and in places buried deep in fallen leaves—yellow, -red, and russet; and this colour is continued -under the trees all through the woods, where the -dead bracken has now taken that deep tint which -it will keep so long as there is rain or mist to wet -it for the next four or five months. Dead bracken -with dead leaves on a reddish soil; and where the -woods are fir, the ground is carpeted with -lately-fallen needles of a chestnut red, which brightens -almost to orange in the rain. Now, at this season, in -this universal redness of the earth where trees and -bracken grow, we see that Nature is justified in having -given that colour—red and reddish-yellow—to all or -to most of her woodland mammals. Fox and foumart -and weasel and stoat; the hare too; the bright -squirrel; the dormouse and harvest-mouse; the -bank-vole and the wood-mouse. Even the common -shrew and lesser shrew, though they rarely come out -by day, have a reddish tinge on their fur. Water-shrew -and water-vole inhabit the banks of streams, -and are safer without such a colour; the dark grey -badger is strictly a night rover. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Autumn in the New Forest -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Sometimes about noon the clouds grow thin in -that part of the sky, low down, where the sun is, -and a pale gleam of sunlight filters through; even a -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P3"></a>3}</span> -patch of lucid blue sky sometimes becomes visible for -a while: but the light soon fades; after mid-day the -dimness increases, and before long one begins to think -that evening has come. Withal it is singularly -mild. One could almost imagine in this season -of mist and wet and soft airs in late November -that this is a land where days grew short and dark -indeed, but where winter comes not, and the sensation -of cold is unknown. It is pleasant to be out of -doors in such weather, to stand in the coloured woods -listening to that autumn sound of tits and other -little birds wandering through the high trees in -straggling parties, talking and calling to one another -in their small sharp voices. Or to walk by the Boldre, -or, as some call it, the Lymington, a slow, tame -stream in summer, invisible till you are close to it; -but now, in flood, the trees that grow on its banks -and hid it in summer are seen standing deep in a -broad, rushing, noisy river. -</p> - -<p> -The woodpecker's laugh has the same careless -happy sound as in summer: it is scarcely light in -the morning before the small wren pours out his -sharp bright lyric outside my window; it is time, -he tells me, to light my candle and get up. The -starlings are about the house all day long, vocal -even in the rain, carrying on their perpetual starling -conversation—talk and song and recitative; a sort -of bird-Yiddish, with fluty fragments of melody -stolen from the blackbird, and whistle and click and -the music of the triangle thrown in to give variety. -So mild is it that in the blackness of night I -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P4"></a>4}</span> -sometimes wander into the forest paths and by furzy -heaths and hedges to listen for the delicate shrill -music of our late chirper in the thickets, our -<i>Thamnotrizon</i>, about which I shall write later; and look, -too, for a late glow-worm shining in some wet green -place. Late in October I found one in daylight, -creeping about in the grass on Selborne Hill; and some -few, left unmarried, may shine much later. And as to -the shade-loving grasshopper or leaf cricket, he sings, -we know, on mild evenings in November. But I -saw no green lamp in the herbage, and I heard -only that nightly music of the tawny owl, fluting -and hallooing far and near, bird answering bird in -the oak woods all along the swollen stream from -Brockenhurst to Boldre. -</p> - -<p> -This race of wood owls perhaps have exceptionally -strong voices: Wise, in his book on the New Forest, -says that their hooting can be heard on a still autumn -evening a distance of two miles. I have no doubt -they can be heard a good mile. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A house by the Boldre -</span> -</p> - -<p> -But it is of this, to a bird lover, delectable spot in -the best bird-months of April, May, and June that I -have to write. The house, too, that gave me shelter -must be spoken of; for never have I known any -human habitation, in a land where people are -discovered dwelling in so many secret, green, -out-of-the-world places, which had so much of nature in -and about it. Grown-up and young people were in -it, and children too, but they were girls, and had -always quite spontaneously practised what I had -preached—pet nothing and persecute nothing. There -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P5"></a>5}</span> -was no boy to disturb the wild creatures with his -hunting instincts and loud noises; no dog, no cat, -nor any domestic creature except the placid cows -and fowls which supplied the household with milk -and eggs. A small old picturesque red-brick house -with high-pitched roof and tall chimneys, a great -part of it overrun with ivy and creepers, the walls -and tiled roof stained by time and many-coloured -lichen to a richly variegated greyish red. The date -of the house, cut in a stone tablet in one of the -rooms, was 1692. In front there was no lawn, but -a walled plot of ground with old, once ornamental -trees and bushes symmetrically placed—yews, both -spreading and cypress-shaped Irish yew, and tall -tapering juniper, and arbor vitę; it was a sort -of formal garden which had long thrown off its -formality. In a corner of the ground by the side -of these dark plants were laurel, syringa, and lilac -bushes, and among these such wildings as thorn, -elder and bramble had grown up, flourishing greatly, -and making of that flowery spot a tangled thicket. -At the side of the house there was another plot -of ground, grass-grown, which had once been the -orchard, and still had a few ancient apple and pear -trees, nearly past bearing, with good nesting-holes -for the tits and starlings in their decayed mossy -trunks. There were also a few old ivied -shade-trees—chestnuts, fir, and evergreen oak. -</p> - -<p> -Best of all (for the birds) were the small old -half-ruined outhouses which had remained from the -distant days when the place, originally a manor, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P6"></a>6}</span> -had been turned into a farm-house. They were -here and there, scattered about, outside the -enclosure, ivy-grown, each looking as old and -weather-stained and in harmony with its surroundings as -the house itself—the small tumble-down barns, the -cow-sheds, the pig-house, the granary with open -door and the wooden staircase falling to pieces. All -was surrounded by old oak woods, and the river was -close by. It was an ideal spot for small birds. I have -never in England seen so many breeding close -together. The commoner species were extraordinarily -abundant. Chaffinch and greenfinch; blackbird, -throstle and missel-thrush; swallow and martin, and -common and lesser whitethroat; garden warbler and -blackcap; robin, dunnock, wren, flycatcher, pied -wagtail, starling, and sparrow;—one could go round -and put one's hand into half a dozen nests of almost -any of these species. And very many of them had -become partial to the old buildings: even in closed -rooms where it was nearly dark, not only wrens, -robins, tits, and wagtails, but blackbirds and throstles -and chaffinches were breeding, building on beams and -in or on the old nests of swallows and martins. The -hawfinch and bullfinch were also there, the last -rearing its brood within eight yards of the front door. -One of his two nearest neighbours was a gold-crested -wren. When the minute bird was sitting on her -eggs, in her little cradle-nest suspended to a spray -of the yew, every day I would pull the branch down -so that we might all enjoy the sight of the little fairy -bird in her fairy nest which she refused to quit. The -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P7"></a>7}</span> -other next-door neighbour of the bullfinch was the -long-tailed tit, which built its beautiful little nest -on a terminal spray of another yew, ten or twelve -yards from the door; and this small creature would -also let us pull the branch down and peep into her -well-feathered interior. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Abundance of nests -</span> -</p> - -<p> -It seemed that, from long immunity from persecution, -all these small birds had quite lost their fear of -human beings; but in late May and in June, when -many young birds were out of the nest, one had to -walk warily in the grass for fear of putting a foot on -some little speckled creature patiently waiting to be -visited and fed by its parents. -</p> - -<p> -Nor were there birds only. Little beasties were -also quite abundant; but they were of species that -did no harm (at all events there), and the weasel -would come from time to time to thin them down. -Money is paid to mole-catcher and rat-catcher; the -weasel charges you nothing: he takes it out in kind. -And even as the jungle tiger, burning bright, and the -roaring lion strike with panic the wild cattle and -antelopes and herds of swine, so does this miniature -carnivore, this fairy tiger of English homesteads and -hedges, fill with trepidation the small deer he hunts -and slays with his needle teeth—Nature's scourge -sent out among her too prolific small rodents; her -little blood-letter who relieves her and restores the -balance. And therefore he, too, with his flat serpent -head and fiery killing soul, is a "dear" creature, -being, like the poet's web-footed beasts of an earlier -epoch, "part of a general plan." -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P8"></a>8}</span> -</p> - -<p> -The most abundant of the small furred creatures -were the two short-tailed voles—field-vole and bank-vole; -the last, in his bright chestnut-red, the prettiest. -Whenever I sat down for a few minutes in the porch -I would see one or more run across the stones from -one side, where masses of periwinkle grew against -the house, to the other side, where Virginia creeper, -rose, and an old magnolia tree covered the wall. -One day at the back of the house by the scullery -door I noticed a swaying movement in a tall seeded -stem of dock, and looking down spied a wee harvest-mouse -running and climbing nimbly on the slender -branchlets, feeding daintily on the seed, and looking -like a miniature squirrel on a miniature bush. -</p> - -<p> -Just there, close to the door, was a wood-pile, and -the hornets had made their nest in it. The year -before they had made it in a loft in the house, and -before that in the old barn. The splendid insects -were coming and going all day, interfering with -nobody and nobody interfering with them; and -when I put a plate of honey for them on the logs -close to their entrance they took no notice of it; -but by-and-by bank-voles and wood-mice came -stealing out from among the logs and fed on it until -it was all gone. -</p> - -<p> -I was surprised, and could only suppose that the -hornets did not notice or discover the honey, because -no such good thing was looked for so close to their -door. Away from home the hornet was quick to -discover anything sweet to the taste, and very ready to -resent the presence of any other creature at the table. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P9"></a>9}</span> -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Hornet and bank-vole -</span> -</p> - -<p> -At the riverside, a few hundred yards from the -house, I was sitting in the shade of a large elm tree -one day when I was visited by a big hornet, who -swept noisily down and settled on the trunk, four -or five feet above the ground. A quantity of sap -had oozed out into a deep cleft of the rough bark -and had congealed there, and the hornet had -discovered it. Before he had been long feeding on it -I saw a little bank-vole come out from the roots of -the tree and run up the trunk, looking very pretty -in his bright chestnut fur as he came into the -sunlight. Stealing up to the lower end of the cleft full -of thickened sap he too began feeding on it. The -hornet, who was at the upper end of the cleft, quite -four inches apart from the vole, at once stopped -eating and regarded the intruder for some time, then -advanced towards him in a threatening attitude. -The vole was frightened at this, starting and erecting -his hair, and once or twice he tried to recover his -courage and resume his feeding, but the hornet still -keeping up his hostile movements, he eventually -slipped quietly down and hid himself at the roots. -When the hornet departed he came out again and -went to the sap. -</p> - -<p> -Wishing to see more, I spent most of that day and -the day following at the spot, and saw hornet and -vole meet many times. If the vole was at the sap -when the hornet came he was at once driven off, -and when the hornet was there first the vole was -never allowed to feed, although on every occasion -he tried to do so, stealing to his lower place in the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P10"></a>10}</span> -gentlest way in order not to give offence, and after -beginning to feed affecting not to see that the other -had left off eating, and with raised head was regarding -him with jealous eyes. -</p> - -<p> -Rarely have I looked on a prettier little comedy -in wild life. -</p> - -<p> -But to return to the house. There was quite a -happy family at that spot by the back door where -the hornets were. A numerous family of shrews -were reared, and the young, when they began -exploring the world, used to creep over the white stone -by the threshold. The girls would pick them up to -feel their soft mole-like fur: the young shrew is a -gentle creature and does not attempt to bite. Some -of the more adventurous ones were always blundering -into the empty flowerpots heaped against the wall, -and there they would remain imprisoned until some -person found and took them out. -</p> - -<p> -One morning, at half-past four o'clock, when I -was lying awake listening to the blackbird, a lively -squirrel came dancing into the open window of -my bedroom on the first floor. There were writing -materials, flowers in glasses, and other objects on -the ledge and dressing-table there, and he frisked -about among them, chattering, wildly excited at -seeing so many curious and pretty things, but he -upset nothing; and by-and-by he danced out again -into the ivy covering the wall on that side, throwing -the colony of breeding sparrows into a great state -of consternation. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Drumming of woodpecker -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The river was quite near the house—not half a -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P11"></a>11}</span> -minute from the front door, though hidden from -sight by the trees on its banks. Here, at the nearest -point, there was an old half-dead dwarf oak growing -by the water and extending one horizontal branch -a distance of twenty feet over the stream. This was -the favourite drumming-tree of a green woodpecker, -and at intervals through the day he would visit it -and drum half a dozen times or so. This drumming -sounded so loud that, following the valley down, -I measured the distance it could be heard and found -it just one-third of a mile. At that distance I could -hear it distinctly; farther on, not at all. It seemed -almost incredible that the sound produced by so -small a stick as a woodpecker's beak striking a tree -should be audible at that distance. -</p> - -<p> -It is hardly to be doubted that the drumming is -used as a love-call, though it is often heard in late -summer. It is, however, in early spring and in the -breeding season that it is oftenest heard, and I have -found that a good imitation of it will sometimes -greatly excite the bird. The same bird may be heard -drumming here, there, and everywhere in a wood -or copse, the sound varying somewhat in character -and strength according to the wood; but each bird -as a rule has a favourite drumming-tree, and it -probably angers him to hear another bird at the -spot. On one occasion, finding that a very large, -old, and apparently dying cedar in a wood was -constantly used by the woodpecker, I went to the -spot and imitated the sound. Very soon the bird -came and begun drumming against me, close by. -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P12"></a>12}</span> -I responded, and again he drummed; and becoming -more and more excited he flew close to me, and passing -from tree to tree drummed at every spot he lighted on. -</p> - -<p> -The other species have the same habit of drumming -on one tree. I have noticed it in the small spotted, -or banded, woodpecker; and have observed that -invariably after he has drummed two or three times -the female has come flying to him from some other -part of the wood, and the two birds have then both -together uttered their loud chirping notes and -flown away. -</p> - -<p> -On revisiting the spot a year after I had heard the -green woodpecker drumming every day in the oak by -the river, I found that he had forsaken it, and that -close by, on the other side of the stream, a great -spotted woodpecker had selected as his drumming-tree -a very big elm growing on the bank. He drummed -on a large dead branch about forty feet from the -ground, and the sound he made was quite as loud as -that of the green bird. It may be that the two big -woodpeckers, who play equally well on the same -instrument, are intolerant of one another's presence, -and that in this case the spotted bird had driven -the larger yaffle from his territory. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Our handsomest bird -</span> -</p> - -<p> -One of the prettiest spots by the water was that -very one where the spotted bird was accustomed to -come, and I often went there at noon and sat for an -hour on the grassy bank in the shade of the -drumming-tree. The river was but thirty to forty feet -wide at that spot, with masses of water forget-me-not -growing on the opposite bank, clearly reflected -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P13"></a>13}</span> -in the sherry-coloured sunlit current below. The -trees were mostly oaks, in the young vivid green -of early June foliage. And one day when the sky, -seen through that fresh foliage, was without a stain -of vapour in its pure azure, when the wood was full -of clear sunlight—so clear that silken spider webs, -thirty or forty feet high in the oaks, were visible as -shining red and blue and purple lines—the bird, -after drumming high above my head, flew to an oak -tree just before me, and clinging vertically to the -bark on the high part of the trunk, remained there -motionless for some time. His statuesque attitude, -as he sat with his head thrown well back, the light -glinting on his hard polished feathers, black and -white and crimson, the setting in which he appeared -of greenest translucent leaves and hoary bark and -open sunlit space, all together made him seem not -only our handsomest woodpecker, but our most -beautiful bird. I had seen him at his best, and sitting -there motionless amid the wind-fluttered leaves, he -was like a bird-figure carved from some beautiful -vari-coloured stone. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The most interesting events in animal life observed -at this spot relate to the cuckoo in the spring of 1900. -Some time before this Dr. Alfred Russel Wallace said, -in the course of a talk we had, that he very much -wanted me to find out exactly what happened in a -nest in which a young cuckoo was hatched. It was, -I replied, an old, old story—what could I see, -supposing I was lucky enough to find a nest where I -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P14"></a>14}</span> -could observe it properly, more than Jenner, -Hancock, Mrs. Hugh Blackburn, and perhaps other -writers, had told us? Yes, it was an old story, -he said, and he wanted it told again by someone -else. People had lately been discrediting Jenner's -account, and as to the other chief authority I had -named, one writer, a Dr. Creighton, had said, "As -for artists like Mrs. Blackburn, they can draw what -they please—all out of their own brains: we can't -trust them, or such as them." Sober-minded -naturalists had come to regard the habit and abnormal -strength attributed to the newly-hatched cuckoo as -"not proven" or quite incredible; thus Seebohm had -said, "One feels inclined to class these narratives -with the equally well-authenticated stories of ghosts -and other apparitions which abound." -</p> - -<p> -Since my conversation with Dr. Wallace we have -had more of these strange narratives—the fables and -ghost stories which the unbelievers are compelled in -the end to accept—and all that Dr. Jenner or his -assistant saw others have seen, and some observers -have even taken snapshots of the young cuckoo in -the act of ejecting his fellow-nestling. But it appears -from all the accounts which I have so far read, that -in every case the observer was impatient and -interfered in the business by touching and irritating the -young cuckoo, by putting eggs and other objects on -his back, and by making other experiments. In the -instance I am about to give there was no -interference by me or by the others who at intervals -watched with me. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P15"></a>15}</span> -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A cuckoo in a robin's nest -</span> -</p> - -<p> -A robin's nest with three robin's eggs and one of -the cuckoo was found in a low bank at the side of -the small orchard on 19th May, 1900. The bird was -incubating, and on the afternoon of 27th May the -cuckoo hatched out. Unfortunately I did not know -how long incubation had been going on before the -19th, but from the fact that the cuckoo was first -out, it seems probable that the parasite has this -further advantage of coming first from the shell. -Long ago I found that this was so in the case of -the parasitical troupials of the genus <i>Molothrus</i> in -South America. -</p> - -<p> -I kept a close watch on the nest for the rest of -that afternoon and the whole of the following day -(the 28th), during which the young cuckoo was -lying in the bottom of the nest, helpless as a piece -of jelly with a little life in it, and with just strength -enough in his neck to lift his head and open his -mouth; and then, after a second or two, the wavering -head would drop again. At eight o'clock next morning -(29th), I found that one robin had come out of the -shell, and one egg had been ejected and was lying -a few inches below the nest on the sloping bank. -Yet the young cuckoo still appeared a weak, helpless, -jelly-like creature, as on the previous day. But -he had increased greatly in size. I believe that in -forty-eight hours from the time of hatching he had -quite doubled his bulk, and had grown darker, his -naked skin being of a bluish-black colour. The -robin, thirty or more hours younger, was little more -than half his size, and had a pale, pinkish-yellow -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P16"></a>16}</span> -skin, thinly clothed with a long black down. The -cuckoo occupied the middle of the deep, cup-shaped -nest, and his broad back, hollow in the middle, -formed a sort of false bottom; but there was a small -space between the bird's sides and the nest, and in -this space or interstice the one unhatched egg that -still remained and the young robin were lying. -</p> - -<p> -During this day (29th) I observed that the pressure -of the egg and young robin against his sides irritated -the cuckoo: he was continually moving, jerking and -wriggling his lumpish body this way and that, as if -to get away from the contact. At intervals this -irritation would reach its culminating point, and a -series of mechanical movements would begin, all -working blindly but as surely towards the end as -if some devilish intelligence animated the seemingly -helpless infant parasite. -</p> - -<p> -Of the two objects in the nest the unhatched egg -irritated him the most. The young robin was soft, -it yielded when pressed, and could be made somehow -to fit into the interstice; but the hard, round -shell, pressing against him like a pebble, was torture -to him, and at intervals became unendurable. Then -would come that magical change in him, when he -seemed all at once to become possessed of a -preternatural power and intelligence, and then the blind -struggle down in the nest would begin. And after -each struggle—each round it might be called—the -cuckoo would fall back again and lie in a state of -collapse, as if the mysterious virtue had gone out of -him. But in a very short time the pressure on his -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P17"></a>17}</span> -side would begin again to annoy him, then to torment -him, and at last he would be wrought up to a fresh -effort. Thus in a space of eight minutes I saw him -struggle four separate times, with a period of collapse -after each, to get rid of the robin's egg; and each -struggle involved a long series of movements on his -part. On each of these occasions the egg was pushed -or carried up to the wrong or upper side of the nest, -with the result that when the bird jerked the egg -from him it rolled back into the bottom of the nest. -The statement is therefore erroneous that the cuckoo -knows at which side to throw the egg out. Of course -he <i>knows</i> nothing, and, as a fact, he tries to throw -the egg up as often as down the slope. -</p> - -<p> -The process in each case was as follows: The -pressure of the egg against the cuckoo's side, as I -have said, was a constant irritation; but the irritability -varied in degree in different parts of the body. -On the under parts it scarcely existed; its seat was -chiefly on the upper surface, beginning at the sides -and increasing towards the centre, and was greatest -in the hollow of the back. When, in moving, the -egg got pushed up to the upper edge of his side, he -would begin to fidget more and more, and this would -cause it to move round, and so to increase the -irritation by touching and pressing against other parts. -When all the bird's efforts to get away from the -object had only made matters worse, he would cease -wriggling and squat down lower and lower in the -bottom of the nest, and the egg, forced up, would -finally roll right into the cavity in his back—the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P18"></a>18}</span> -most irritable part of all. Whenever this occurred, -a sudden change that was like a fit would seize the -bird; he would stiffen, rise in the nest, his flabby -muscles made rigid, and stand erect, his back in a -horizontal position, the head hanging down, the -little naked wings held up over the back. In that -position he looked an ugly, lumpish negro mannikin, -standing on thinnest dwarf legs, his back bent, and -elbows stuck up above the hollow flat back. -</p> - -<p> -Once up on his small stiffened legs he would move -backwards, firmly grasping the hairs and hair-like -fibres of the nest-lining, and never swerving, until -the rim of the cup-like structure was reached; and -then standing, with feet sometimes below and in -some cases on the rim, he would jerk his body, -throwing the egg off or causing it to roll off. After -that he would fall back into the nest and lie quite -exhausted for some time, his jelly-like body rising -and falling with his breathing. -</p> - -<p> -These changes in the bird strongly reminded me -of a person with an epileptic fit, as I had been -accustomed to see it on the pampas, where, among the -gauchos, epilepsy is one of the commonest maladies;—the -sudden rigidity of muscle in some weak, sickly, -flabby-looking person, the powerful grip of the hand, -the strength in struggling, exceeding that of a man -in perfect health, and finally, when this state is over, -the weakness of complete exhaustion. -</p> - -<p> -I witnessed several struggles with the egg, but at -last, in spite of my watchfulness, I did not see it -ejected. On returning after a very short absence, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P19"></a>19}</span> -I found the egg had been thrown out and had rolled -down the bank, a distance of fourteen inches from -the nest. -</p> - -<p> -The young cuckoo appeared to rest more quietly -in the nest now, but after a couple of hours the old -fidgeting began again, and increased until he was in -the same restless state as before. The rapid growth -of the birds made the position more and more miserable -for the cuckoo, since the robin, thrust against -the side of the nest, would throw his head and neck -across the cuckoo's back, and he could not endure -being touched there. And now a fresh succession of -struggles began, the whole process being just the -same as when the egg was struggled with. But it -was not so easy with the young bird, not because -of its greater weight, but because it did not roll -like the egg and settle in the middle of the back; -it would fall partly on to the cuckoo's back and then -slip off into the nest again. But success came at -last, after many failures. The robin was lying partly -across the cuckoo's neck, when, in moving its head, -its little curved beak came down and rested on the -very centre of that irritable hollow in the back of -its foster-brother. Instantly the cuckoo pressed down -into the nest, shrinking away as if hot needles had -pricked him, as far as possible from the side where -the robin was lying against him, and this movement -of course brought the robin more and more over him, -until he was thrown right upon the cuckoo's back. -</p> - -<p> -Instantly the rigid fit came on, and up rose the -cuckoo, as if the robin weighed no more than a feather -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P20"></a>20}</span> -on him; and away backwards he went, right up the -nest, without a pause, and standing actually on the -rim, jerked his body, causing the robin to fall off, -clean away from the nest. It fell, in fact, on to a -large dock leaf five inches below the rim of the nest, -and rested there. -</p> - -<p> -After getting rid of his burden the cuckoo -continued in the same position, perfectly rigid, for a -space of five or six seconds, during which it again -and again violently jerked its body, as if it had the -feeling of the burden on it still. Then, the fit over, -it fell back, exhausted as usual. -</p> - -<p> -I had been singularly fortunate in witnessing the -last scene and conclusion of this little bloodless -tragedy in a bird's nest, with callow nestlings for -<i>dramatis personę</i>, this innocent crime and wrong, -which is not a wrong since the cuckoo doesn't think -it one. It is a little curious to reflect that a similar -act takes place annually in tens of thousands of -small birds' nests all over the country, and that -it is so rarely witnessed. -</p> - -<p> -Marvellous as the power of the young cuckoo is -when the fit is on him, it is of course limited, and -when watching his actions I concluded that it would -be impossible for him to eject eggs and nestlings -from any thrush's nest. The blackbird's would be -too deep, and as to the throstle's, he could not move -backwards up the sides of the cup-like cavity on -account of the smooth plastered surface. -</p> - -<p> -After having seen the young robin cast out I still -refrained from touching the nest, as there were yet -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P21"></a>21}</span> -other things to observe. One was the presence, very -close to the nest, of the ejected nestling—what would -the parents do in the case? Before dealing with -that matter I shall conclude the history of the -young cuckoo. -</p> - -<p> -Having got the nest to himself he rested very -quietly, and it was not till the following day (1st -July) that I allowed myself to touch him. He was, -I found, still irritable, and when I put back the eggs -he had thrown out he was again miserable in the -nest, and the struggle with the eggs was renewed -until he got rid of them as before. The next day -the irritability had almost gone, and in the -afternoon he suffered an egg or a pebble to remain in the -nest with him without jerking and wriggling about, -and he made no further attempt to eject it. This -observation—the loss of irritability on the fifth -day after hatching—agrees with that of Mr. Craig, -whose account was printed in the <i>Feathered World</i>, -14th July, 1899. -</p> - -<p> -The young cuckoo grew rapidly and soon trod his -nest into a broad platform, on which he reposed, a -conspicuous object in the scanty herbage on the bank. -We often visited and fed him, when he would puff -up his plumage and strike savagely at our hands, -but at the same time he would always gobble down -the food we offered. In seventeen days after being -hatched he left the nest and took up his position -in an oak tree growing on the bank, and there the -robins continued feeding him for the next three days, -after which we saw no more of him. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P22"></a>22}</span> -</p> - -<p> -I may add that in May 1901 a pair of robins built -on the bank close to where the nest had been made -the previous year, and that in this nest a cuckoo was -also reared. The bird, when first seen, was apparently -about four or five days old, and it had the nest to -itself. Three ejected robin's eggs were lying on the -bank a little lower down. -</p> - -<p> -It is hardly to be doubted that the robins were -the same birds that had reared the cuckoo in the -previous season; and it is highly probable that -the same cuckoo had returned to place her egg in -their nest. -</p> - -<p> -The end of the little history—the fate of the ejected -nestling and the attitude of the parent robins—remains -to be told. When the young cuckoo throws -out the nestlings from nests in trees, hedges, bushes, -and reeds, the victims, as a rule, fall some distance -to the ground, or in the water, and are no more seen -by the old birds. Here the young robin, when ejected, -fell a distance of but five or six inches, and rested on -a broad, bright green leaf, where it was an exceedingly -conspicuous object; and when the mother robin was -on the nest—and at this stage she was on it a greater -part of the time—warming that black-skinned, -toad-like, spurious babe of hers, her bright, intelligent -eyes were looking full at the other one, just beneath -her, which she had grown in her body and had -hatched with her warmth, and was her very own. -I watched her for hours; watched her when warming -the cuckoo, when she left the nest and when she -returned with food, and warmed it again, and never -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P23"></a>23}</span> -once did she pay the least attention to the outcast -lying there so close to her. There, on its green leaf, -it remained, growing colder by degrees, hour by hour, -motionless, except when it lifted its head as if to -receive food, then dropped it again, and when, at -intervals, it twitched its body as if trying to move. -During the evening even these slight motions ceased, -though that feeblest flame of life was not yet -extinguished; but in the morning it was dead and cold and -stiff; and just above it, her bright eyes on it, the -mother robin sat on the nest as before, warming -her cuckoo. -</p> - -<p> -How amazing and almost incredible it seems that -a being such as a robin, intelligent above most birds -as we are apt to think, should prove in this instance -to be a mere automaton! The case would, I think, -have been different if the ejected one had made a -sound, since there is nothing which more excites the -parent bird, or which is more instantly responded to, -than the cry of hunger or distress of the young. But -at this early stage the nestling is voiceless—another -point in favour of the parasite. The sight of its -young, we see, slowly and dumbly dying, touches no -chord in the parent: there is, in fact, no recognition; -once out of the nest it is no more than a coloured -leaf, or a bird-shaped pebble, or fragment of clay. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -It happened that my young fellow-watchers, seeing -that the ejected robin if left there would inevitably -perish, proposed to take it in to feed and rear it—to -save it, as they said; but I advised them not to -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P24"></a>24}</span> -attempt such a thing, but rather to spare the bird. -To spare it the misery they would inflict upon it by -attempting to fill its parents' place. They had, so -far, never kept a caged bird, nor a pet bird, and had -no desire to keep one; all they desired to do in this -case was to save the little outcast from death—to -rear it till it was able to fly away and take care of -itself. That was a difficult, a well-nigh impossible -task. The bird, at this early stage, required to be -fed at short intervals for about sixteen hours each -day on a peculiar kind of food, suited to its delicate -stomach—chiefly small caterpillars found in the -herbage; and it also needed a sufficient amount -by day and night of that animal warmth which -only the parent bird could properly supply. They, -not being robins, would give it unsuitable food, feed -it at improper times, and not keep it at the right -temperature, with the almost certain result that after -lingering a few days it would die in their hands. -But if by giving a great deal of time and much care -they should succeed in rearing it, their foundling -would start his independent life so handicapped, -weakened in constitution by an indoor artificial -bringing up, without the training which all young -birds receive from their parents after quitting the -nest, that it would be impossible for him to save -himself. If by chance he should survive until August, -he would then be set upon and killed by one of the -adult robins already in possession of the ground. -Now, when a bird at maturity perishes, it suffers in -dying—sometimes very acutely; but if left to grow -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P25"></a>25}</span> -cold and fade out of life at this stage it can hardly -be said to suffer. It is no more conscious than a chick -in the shell; take from it the warmth that keeps it -in being, and it drops back into nothingness without -knowing and, we may say, without feeling anything. -There may indeed be an incipient consciousness in -that small, soft brain in its early vegetative stage, a -first faint glimmer of bright light to be, and a slight -sensation of numbness may be actually felt as the -body grows cold, but that would be all. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Mistaken kindness -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Pain is so common in the world; and, owing to -the softness and sensitiveness induced in us by an -indoor artificial life—since that softness of our bodies -reacts on our minds—we have come to a false or an -exaggerated idea of its importance, its <i>painfulness</i>, -to put it that way; and we should therefore be but -making matters worse, or rather making ourselves -more miserable, by looking for and finding it where -it does not exist. -</p> - -<p> -The power to feel pain in any great degree comes -into the bird's life after this transitional period, and -is greatest at maturity, when consciousness and all -the mental faculties are fully developed, particularly -the passion of fear, which plays continually on the -strings of the wild creature's heart with an ever -varying touch, producing the feeling in all degrees -from the slight disquiet, which is no sooner come -than gone, to extremities of agonising terror. It -would perhaps have a wholesome effect on their -young minds, and save them from grieving over-much -at the death of a newly-hatched robin, if they -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P26"></a>26}</span> -would consider this fact of the pain that is and must -be. Not the whole subject—the fact that as things -are designed in this world of sentient life there can -be no good, no sweetness or pleasure in life, nor -peace and contentment and safety, nor happiness -and joy, nor any beauty or strength or lustre, nor -any bright and shining quality of body or mind, -without pain, which is not an accident nor an -incident, nor something ancillary to life, but is involved -in and a part of life, of its very colour and texture. -That would be too long to speak about; all I meant -was to consider that small part of the fact, the -necessary pain to and destruction of the bird life -around them and in the country generally. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Annual bird-mortality -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Here, for instance, without going farther than a -hundred yards from the house in any direction, they -could put their hands in nests in trees and bushes, -and on the ground, and in the ivy, and in the old -outhouse, and handle and count about one hundred -and thirty young birds not yet able to fly. Probably -more than twice that number would be successfully -reared during the season. How many, then, would be -reared in the whole parish! How many in the entire -New Forest district, in the whole county of -Hampshire, in the entire kingdom! Yet when summer -came round again they would find no more birds -than they had now. And so it would be in all places; -all that incalculable increase would have perished. -Many millions would be devoured by rapacious birds -and beasts; millions more would perish of hunger -and cold; millions of migrants would fall by the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P27"></a>27}</span> -way, some in the sea and some on land; those -that returned from distant regions would be but a -remnant, and the residents that survived through -the winter, these, too, would be nothing but a -remnant. It is not only that this inconceivable -amount of bird life must be destroyed each year, -but we cannot suppose that death is not a painful -process. In a vast majority of cases, whether the -bird slowly perishes of hunger and weakness, or is -pursued and captured by birds and beasts of prey, -or is driven by cold adverse winds and storms into -the waves, the pain, the agony must be great. The -least painful death is undoubtedly that of the bird -that, weakened by want of sustenance, dies by night -of cold in severe weather. It is indeed most like -the death of the nestling, but a few hours out of -the shell, which has been thrown out of the nest, -and which soon grows cold, and dozes its feeble, -unconscious life away. -</p> - -<p> -We may say, then, that of all the thousand forms -of death which Nature has invented to keep her too -rapidly multiplying creatures within bounds, that -which is brought about by the singular instinct of -the young cuckoo in the nest is the most merciful -or the least painful. -</p> - -<p> -I am not sure that I said all this, or marshalled -fact and argument in the precise order in which -they are here set down. I fancy not, as it seems -more than could well have been spoken while we -were standing there in the late evening sunlight -by that primrose bank, looking down on the little -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P28"></a>28}</span> -flesh-coloured mite in its scant clothing of black -down, fading out of life on its cold green leaf. But -what was said did not fail of its effect, so that my -young tender-hearted hearers, who had begun to -listen with moist eyes, secretly accusing me perhaps -of want of feeling, were content in the end to let it -be—to go away and leave it to its fate in that -mysterious green world we, too, live in and do not -understand, in which life and death and pleasure -and pain are interwoven light and shade. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P29"></a>29}</span></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER II -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -Between the Boldre and the Exe—Abuse of the New -Forest—Character of the population—New Forest code and -conscience—A radical change foreshadowed—Tenacity of the -Forest fly—Oak woods of Beaulieu—Swallow and pike—Charm -of Beaulieu—Instinctive love of open spaces—A -fragrant heath—Nightjars—Snipe—Redshanks—Pewits—Cause -of sympathy with animals—Grasshopper and spider—A -rapacious fly—Melancholy moods—Evening on the -heath—"World-strangeness"—Pixie mounds—Death and -burial—The dead in the barrows—Their fear of the living. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Between the Boldre and the Exe, or Beaulieu -river, there is a stretch of country in most part -flat and featureless. It is one of those parts -of the Forest which have a bare and desolate aspect; -here in places you can go a mile and not find a tree -or bush, where nothing grows but a starved-looking -heath, scarcely ankle-deep. Wild life in such places -is represented by a few meadow-pipits and small -lizards. There is no doubt that this barrenness and -naked appearance is the result of the perpetual -cutting of heath and gorse, and the removal of the -thin surface soil for fuel. -</p> - -<p> -Those who do not know the New Forest, or know -it only as a collecting- or happy hunting-ground of -eggers and "lepidopterists," or as artists in search -of paintable woodland scenery know it, and others -who make it a summer holiday resort, may say that -this abuse is one which might and should be remedied. -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P30"></a>30}</span> -They would be mistaken. What I and a few others -who use their senses see and hear in this or that spot, -is, in every case, a very small matter, a visible but -an infinitesimal part of that abuse of the New Forest -which is old and chronic, and operates always, and -is common to the whole area, and, as things are, -irremediable. To discover and denounce certain -things which ought not to be, to rail against -verderers, who are after all what they cannot help -being, is about as profitable as it would be to "damn -the nature of things." -</p> - -<p> -It must be borne in mind that the Forest area has -a considerable population composed of commoners, -squatters, private owners, who have inherited or -purchased lands originally filched from the Forest; -and of a large number of persons who reside mostly -in the villages, and are private residents, publicans, -shopkeepers, and lodging-house keepers. All these -people have one object in common—to get as much -as they can out of the Forest. It is true that a large -proportion of them, especially those who live in the -villages, which are now rapidly increasing their -populations, are supposed not to have any Forest -rights; but they do as a fact get something out of -it; and we may say that, generally, all the people -in the Forest dine at one table, and all get a helping -out of most of the dishes going, though the first and -biggest helpings are for the favoured guests. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -New Forest conscience -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Those who have inherited rights have indeed come -to look on the Forest as in a sense their property. -What is given or handed over to them is not in their -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P31"></a>31}</span> -view their proper share: they take this openly, and -get the balance the best way they can—in the dark -generally. It is not dishonest to help yourself to -what belongs to you; and they must live—must -have their whack. They have, in fact, their own -moral code, their New Forest conscience, just as -other men—miners, labourers on the land, tradesmen, -gamekeepers, members of the Stock Exchange, for -instance—have each their corporate code and -conscience. It may not be the general or the ideal or -speculative conscience, but it is what may be called -their working conscience. One proof that much goes -on in the dark, or that much is winked at, is the -paucity of all wild life which is worth any man's -while to take in a district where pretty well -everything is protected on paper. Game, furred and -feathered, would not exist at all but for the private -estates scattered through the Forest, in which game -is preserved, and from which the depleted Forest -lands are constantly being restocked. Again, in all -this most favourable country no rare or beautiful -species may be found: it would be safer for the hobby, -the golden oriole, the hoopoe, the harrier, to nest in -a metropolitan park than in the loneliest wood -between the Avon and Southampton Water. To -introduce any new species, from the biggest—the -capercailzie and the great bustard—to the smallest -quail, or any small passerine bird with a spot of -brilliant colour on its plumage, would be impossible. -</p> - -<p> -The New Forest people are, in fact, just what -circumstances have made them. Like all organised -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P32"></a>32}</span> -beings, they are the creatures of, and subject to, -the conditions they exist in; and they cannot be -other than they are—namely, parasites on the Forest. -And, what is more, they cannot be educated, or -preached, or worried out of their ingrained parasitical -habits and ways of thought. They have had centuries—long -centuries—of practice to make them cunning, -and the effect of more stringent regulations than -those now in use would only be to polish and put a -better edge on that weapon which Nature has given -them to fight with. -</p> - -<p> -This being the conclusion, namely, that "things -are what they are, and the consequences of them -will be what they will be," some of my readers, -especially those in the New Forest, may ask, Why, -then, say anything about it? why not follow the -others who have written books and books and books -about the New Forest, books big and books little, -from Wise, his classic, and the Victoria History, -down to the long row of little rosy guide-books? -They saw nothing of all this; or if they saw -un-pleasant things they thought it better to hold their -tongues, or pens, than to make people uncomfortable. -</p> - -<p> -I confess it would be a mistake, a mere waste of -words, to bring these hidden things to light if it -could be believed that the New Forest, in its -condition and management, will continue for any length -of time to be what it is and has been—just that and -nothing more. A district in England, it is true, but -out of the way, remote, a spot to be visited once -or twice in a lifetime just to look at the scenery, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P33"></a>33}</span> -like Lundy or the Scilly Isles or the Orkneys. But -it cannot be believed. The place itself, its curious -tangle of ownership—government by and rights of -the crown, of private owners, commoners, and the -public—is what it has always been; but many persons -have now come to think and to believe that the time -is approaching when there will be a disentanglement -and a change. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A change foreshadowed -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The Forest has been known and loved by a limited -number of persons always; the general public have -only discovered it in recent years. For one visitor -twenty years ago there are scores, probably hundreds, -to-day. And year by year, as motoring becomes -more common, and as cycling from being general -grows, as it will, to be universal, the flow of visitors -to the Forest will go on at an ever-increasing rate, -and the hundreds of to-day will be thousands in -five years' time. With these modern means of -locomotion, there is no more attractive spot than this -hundred and fifty square miles of level country -which contains the most beautiful forest scenery in -England. And as it grows in favour in all the country -as a place of recreation and refreshment, the subject -of its condition and management, and the ways of its -inhabitants, will receive an increased attention. The -desire will grow that it shall not be spoilt, either by -the authorities or the residents, that it shall not -be turned into townships and plantations, nor be -starved, nor its wild life left to be taken and destroyed -by anyone and everyone. It will be seen that the -"rights" I have spoken of, with the unwritten laws -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P34"></a>34}</span> -and customs which are kept more or less in the dark, -are in conflict with the better and infinitely more -important rights of the people generally—of the -whole nation. Once all this becomes common -knowledge, that which some now regard as a mere dream, -a faint hope, something too remote for us to concern -ourselves about, will all at once appear to us as a -practical object—something to be won by fighting, -and certainly worth fighting for. -</p> - -<p> -It may be said at once, and I fancy that anyone -who knows the inner life of the Forest people will -agree with me, that so long as these are in possession -(and here all private owners are included) there can -be no great change, no permanent improvement -made in the Forest. That is the difficulty, but it is -not an insuperable one. Public opinion, and the -desire of the people for anything, is a considerable -force to-day; so that, inspired by it, the most timid -and conservative governments are apt all at once to -acquire an extraordinary courage. Sustained by that -outside force, the most tender-hearted and sensitive -Prime Minister would not in the least mind if some -persons were to dub him a second and worse William -the Bastard. -</p> - -<p> -The people in this district have a curious experiment -to show the wonderful power of the Forest fly -in retaining its grasp. A man takes the fly between -his finger and thumb, and with the other hand holds -a single hair of a cow or horse for it to seize, then -gently pulls hair and fly apart. The fly does not -release his hold—he splits the hair, or at any rate -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P35"></a>35}</span> -shaves a piece off right down to the fine end with -his sharp, grasping claw. Doubtless the human -parasite will, when his time comes, show an equal -tenacity; he will embrace the biggest and oldest -oak he knows, and to pluck him from his beloved soil -it will be necessary to pull up the tree by its roots. -But this is a detail, and may be left to the engineers. -</p> - -<p><br /> -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Overlooking Beaulieu -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Beyond that starved, melancholy wilderness, the -sight of which has led me into so long a digression, -one comes to a point which overlooks the valley of -the Exe; and here one pauses long before going down -to the half-hidden village by the river. Especially -if it is in May or June, when the oak is in its "glad -light grene," for that is the most vivid and beautiful -of all vegetable greens, and the prospect is the greenest -and most soul-refreshing to be found in England. -The valley is all wooded and the wood is all oak—a -continuous oak-wood stretching away on the right, -mile on mile, to the sea. The sensation experienced -at the sight of this prospect is like that of the traveller -in a dry desert when he comes to a clear running -stream and drinks his fill of water and is refreshed. -The river is tidal, and at the full of the tide in its -widest part beside the village its appearance is of a -small inland lake, grown round with oaks—old trees -that stretch their horizontal branches far out and -wet their lower leaves in the salt water. The village -itself that has this setting, with its ancient -watermill, its palace of the Montagus, and the Abbey of -Beaulieu, a grey ivied ruin, has a distinction above -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P36"></a>36}</span> -all Hampshire villages, and is unlike all others in -its austere beauty and atmosphere of old-world -seclusion and quietude. Above all is that quality -which the mind imparts—the expression due to -romantic historical associations. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Swallow and pike -</span> -</p> - -<p> -One very still, warm summer afternoon I stood on -the margin, looking across the sheet of glassy water -at a heron on the farther side, standing knee-deep -in the shallow water patiently watching for a fish, -his grey figure showing distinctly against a -background of bright green sedges. Between me and the -heron scores of swallows and martins were hawking -for flies, gliding hither and thither a little above -the glassy surface, and occasionally dropping down -to dip and wet their under plumage in the water. -And all at once, fifty yards out from the margin, -there was a great splash, as if a big stone had been -flung out into the lake; and then two or three -moments later out from the falling spray and rocking -water rose a swallow, struggling laboriously up, its -plumage drenched, and flew slowly away. A big -pike had dashed at and tried to seize it at the moment -of dipping in the water, and the swallow had escaped -as by a miracle. I turned round to see if any person -was near, who might by chance have witnessed so -strange a thing, in order to speak to him about it. -There was no person within sight, but if on turning -round my eyes had encountered the form of a -Cistercian monk, returning from his day's labour -in the fields, in his dirty black-and-white robe, his -implements on his shoulders, his face and hands -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P37"></a>37}</span> -begrimed with dust and sweat, the apparition on that -day, in the mood I was in, would not have greatly -surprised me. -</p> - -<p> -The atmosphere, the expression of the past may -so attune the mind as almost to produce the illusion -that the past is now. -</p> - -<p> -But more than old memories, great as their power -over the mind is at certain impressible moments, and -more than Beaulieu as a place where men dwell, is -that ineffable freshness of nature, that verdure that -like the sunlight and the warmth of the sun -penetrates to the inmost being. Here I have remembered -the old ornithologist Willughby's suggestion, which -no longer seemed fantastic, that the furred and -feathered creatures inhabiting arctic regions have -grown white by force of imagination and the constant -intuition of snow. And here too I have recalled -that modern fancy that the soul in man has its -proper shape and colour, and have thought that if -I came hither with a grey or blue or orange or brown -soul, its colour had now changed to green. The -pleasure of it has detained me long days in spring, -often straying by the river at its full, among the -broadly-branching oaks, delighting my sight with -the new leaves -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - against the sun shene,<br /> - Some very red, and some a glad light grene.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Love of open spaces -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Yet these same oak woods, great as their charm is, -their green everlasting gladness, have a less enduring -hold on the spirit than the open heath, though this -may look melancholy and almost desolate on coming -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P38"></a>38}</span> -to it from those sunlit emerald glades with a green -thought in the soul. It seems enough that it is -open, where the wind blows free, and there is nothing -between us and the sun. It is a passion, an old -ineradicable instinct in us: the strongest impulse -in children, savage or civilised, is to go out into -some open place. If a man be capable of an exalted -mood, of a sense of absolute freedom, so that he is -no longer flesh and spirit but both in one, and one -with nature, it comes to him like some miraculous -gift on a hill or down or wide open heath. "You -never enjoy the earth aright," wrote Thomas -Traherne in his <i>Divine Raptures</i>, "until the sun itself -floweth through your veins, till you are clothed with -the heavens and crowned with the stars, and perceive -yourself to be the sole heir of the whole world." -</p> - -<p> -It may be observed that we must be out and well -away from the woods and have a wide horizon all -around in order to feel the sun flowing through us. -Many of us have experienced these "divine raptures," -this sublimated state of feeling; and such moments -are perhaps the best in our earthly lives; but it is -mainly the Trahernes, the Silurist Vaughans, the -Newmans, the Frederic Myers, the Coventry Patmores, -the Wordsworths, that speak of them, since -such moods best fit, or can be made to fit in with -their philosophy, or mysticism, and are, to them, its -best justification. -</p> - -<p> -This wide heath, east of Beaulieu, stretching miles -away towards Southampton Water, looks level to -the eye. But it is not so; it is grooved with long -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P39"></a>39}</span> -valley-like depressions with marshy or boggy bottoms, -all draining into small tributaries of the Dark Water, -which flows into the Solent near Lepe. In these -bottoms and in all the wet places the heather and -furze mixes with or gives place to the bog myrtle, -or golden withy; and on the spongiest spots the -fragrant yellow stars of the bog asphodel are common -in June. These spots are exceedingly rich in colour, -with greys and emerald greens and orange yellows -of moss and lichen, flecked with the snow-white -of cotton-grass. -</p> - -<p> -Here, then, besides that cause of contentment -which we find in openness, there is fragrance in -fuller measure than in most places. One may wade -through acres of myrtle, until that subtle delightful -odour is in one's skin and clothes, and in the air -one breathes, and seems at last to penetrate and -saturate the whole being, and smell seems to be for -a time the most important of the senses. -</p> - -<p> -Among the interesting birds that breed on the -heath, the nightjar is one of the commonest. A -keen naturalist, Mr. E. A. Bankes, who lived close -by, told me that he had marked the spot where he -had found a pair of young birds, and that each time -he rode over the heath he had a look at them, and -as they remained there until able to fly, he concluded -that it is not true that the parent birds remove -the young when the nest has been discovered. -</p> - -<p> -I was not convinced, as it did not appear that he -had handled the young birds: he had only looked -at them while sitting on his horse. The following -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P40"></a>40}</span> -summer I found a pair of young not far from the -same spot: they were half-fledged and very active, -running into the heath and trying to hide from -me, but I caught and handled them for some minutes, -the parent bird remaining near, uttering her cries. -I marked the spot and went back next day, only -to find that the birds had vanished. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Snipe: Redshank -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The snipe, too, is an annual breeder, and from -what I saw of it on the heath I think we have yet -something to learn concerning the breeding habits -of that much-observed bird. The parent bird is not -so wise as most mothers of the feathered world, -since her startling cry of alarm, sounding in a small -way like the snort of a frightened horse, will attract -a person to the spot where she is sheltering her young -among the myrtle. She will repeat the cry at intervals -a dozen times without stirring or attempting to conceal -the young. But she does not always act in the same -way. Sometimes she has risen to a great height and -begun circling above me, the circles growing smaller -or larger as I came nearer or went farther from the -spot where the young were lurking. -</p> - -<p> -It was until recently a moot question as to whether -or not the female snipe made the drumming or -bleating sound; some of the authorities say that this -sound proceeds only from the male bird. I have no -doubt that both birds make the sound. Invariably -when I disturbed a snipe with young, and when she -mounted high in the air, to wheel round and round, -uttering her anxious cries, she dashed downwards at -intervals, and produced the bleating or drumming -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P41"></a>41}</span> -which the male birds emit when playing about -the sky. -</p> - -<p> -In all cases where I have found young snipe there -was but one old bird, the female, no doubt. In some -instances I have spent an hour with the young birds -by me, or in my hands, waiting for the other parent -to appear; and I am almost convinced that the care -of the young falls wholly on the female. -</p> - -<p> -The redshank, that graceful bird with a beautiful -voice, breeds here most years, and is in a perpetual -state of anxiety so long as a human figure remains -in sight. A little while ago the small vari-coloured -stonechat or fuzz-jack, with red breast, black head -and white collar, sitting upright and motionless, like -a painted image of a bird, on the topmost spray of -a furze bush, then flitting to perch on another bush, -then to another, for ever emitting those two little -contrasted sounds—the guttural chat and the clear, -fretful pipe—had seemed to me the most troubled -and full of care and worries of all Nature's feathered -children—so sorrowful, in spite of his pretty -harlequin dress! Now his trouble seems a small thing, -and not to be regarded in the presence of the larger, -louder redshank. As I walk he rises a long way ahead, -and wheeling about comes towards me—he and she, -and by-and-by a second pair, and perhaps a third; -they come with measured pulsation of the long, -sharp, white-banded wings; and the first comer -sweeps by and returns again to meet the others, -clamouring all the time, calling on them to join in -the outcry until the whole air seems full of their -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P42"></a>42}</span> -trouble. To and fro he flies, to this side and that; -and finally, as if in imitation of the small, fretful -stonechat, he sweeps down to alight on the topmost -spray of some small tree or tall bush—not a furze -but a willow; and as it is an insecure stand for a -bird of his long thin wading legs, he stands lightly, -balancing himself with his wings; beautiful in his -white and pale-grey plumage, and his slender form, -on that airy perch of the willow in its grey-green -leaves and snow-white catkins; and balanced there, -he still continues his sorrowful anxious cries—ever -crying for me to go—to go away and leave him in -peace. I leave him reluctantly, and have my reward, -for no sooner does he see me going than his anxious -cries change to that beautiful wild pipe, unrivalled -except by the curlew among shore birds. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Pewit -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Worst of all birds that can have no peace in their -lives so long as you are in sight is the pewit. The -harsh wailing sound of his crying voice as he wheels -about overhead, the mad downward rushes, when his -wings creak as he nears you, give the idea that he -is almost crazed with anxiety; and one feels ashamed -at causing so much misery. Oh, poor bird! is there -no way to make you understand without leaving -the ground, that your black-spotted, olive-coloured -eggs are perfectly safe; that a man can walk about -on the heath and be no more harmful to you than -the Forest ponies, and the ragged donkey browsing -on a furze bush, and the cow with her tinkling bell? -I stand motionless, looking the other way; I sit -down to think; I lie flat on my back with hands -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P43"></a>43}</span> -clasped behind my head, and gaze at the sky, and -still the trouble goes on—he will not believe in me, -nor tolerate me. There is nothing to do but get up -and go away out of sight and sound of the pewits. -</p> - -<p> -It appears to me that this sympathy for the lower -animals is very much a matter of association—an -overflow of that regard for the rights of and -compassion for others of our kind which are at the -foundations of the social instinct. The bird is a -red- and a warm-blooded being—we have seen that -its blood is red, and when we take a living bird -in our hands we feel its warmth and the throbbing -of its breast: therefore birds are related to us, and -with that red human blood they have human -passions. Witness the pewit—the mother bird, when -you have discovered or have come near her downy -little one—could any human mother, torn with the -fear of losing her babe, show her unquiet and -disturbed state in a plainer, more understandable way! -But in the case of creatures of another division in -the kingdom of life—non-vertebrates, without sensible -heat, and with a thin colourless fluid instead of red -blood, as if like plants they had only a vegetative -life—this sympathy is not felt as a rule. When, in -some exceptional case, the feeling is there, it is -because some human association has come into the -mind in spite of the differences between insect -and man. -</p> - -<p> -Walking on this heath I saw a common green -grasshopper, disturbed at my step, leap away, and -by chance land in a geometric web in a small furze -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P44"></a>44}</span> -bush. Caught in the web, it began kicking with its -long hind legs, and would in three seconds have made -its escape. But mark what happened. Directly -over the web, and above the kicking grasshopper, -there was a small, web-made, thimble-shaped shelter, -mouth down, fastened to a spray, and the spider was -sitting in it. And looking down it must have seen -and known that the grasshopper was far too big and -strong to be held in that frailest snare, that it would -be gone in a moment and the net torn to pieces. It -also must have seen and known that it was no wasp -nor dangerous insect of any kind; and so, instantly, -straight and swift as a leaden plummet, it dropped -out of the silvery bell it lived in on to the grasshopper -and attacked it at the head. The falces were probably -thrust into the body between the head and pro-thorax, -for almost instantly the struggle ceased, and -in less than three seconds the victim appeared -perfectly dead. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Grasshopper and spider -</span> -</p> - -<p> -What interested me in this sight was the spider, -an <i>Epeira</i> of a species I had never closely looked at -before, a little less in size than our famous <i>Epeira -diadema</i>—our common garden spider, with the pretty -white diadem on its velvety, brown abdomen. This -heath spider was creamy-white in colour, the white -deepening to warm buff all round at the sides, and -to a deeper tint on the under surface. It was curiously -and prettily coloured; and, being new to me, its -image was vividly impressed on my mind. -</p> - -<p> -As to what had happened, that did not impress -me at all. I could not, like the late noble poet who -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P45"></a>45}</span> -cherished an extreme animosity against the spider, -and inveighed against it in brilliant, inspired verse, -remember and brood sadly on the thought of the -fairy forms that are its victims— -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - The lovely births that winnow by,<br /> - Twin-sisters of the rainbow sky:<br /> - Elf-darlings, fluffy, bee-bright things,<br /> - And owl-white moths with mealy wings.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -Nor could I, like him, break the creature's toils, nor -take the dead from its gibbet, nor slay it on account -of its desperate wickedness. These are mere -house-bred feelings and fancies, perhaps morbid; he who -walks out of doors with Nature, who sees life and -death as sunlight and shadow, on witnessing such -an incident wishes the captor a good appetite, and, -passing on, thinks no more about it. For any day in -summer, sitting by the water, or in a wood, or on -the open heath, I note little incidents of this kind; -they are always going on in thousands all about us, -and one with trained eye cannot but see them; but -no feeling is excited, no sympathy, and they are no -sooner seen than forgotten. But, as I said, there -are exceptional cases, and here is one which refers -to an even more insignificant creature than a field -grasshopper—a small dipterous insect—and yet I was -strangely moved by it. -</p> - -<p> -The insect was flying rather slowly by me over -the heath—a thin, yellow-bodied, long-legged -creature, a <i>Tipula</i>, about half as big as our familiar -crane-fly. Now, as it flew by me about on a level -with my thighs, up from the heath at my feet shot -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P46"></a>46}</span> -out a second insect, about the same size as the first, -also a Dipteron, but of another family—one of the -Asilidę, which are rapacious. The <i>Asilus</i> was also -very long-legged, and seizing the other with its legs, -the two fell together to the ground. Stooping down, -I witnessed the struggle. They were locked together, -and I saw the attacking insect raise his head and the -forepart of his body so as to strike, then plunge his -rostrum like a dagger in the soft part of his victim's -body. Again and again he raised and buried his -weapon in the other, and the other still refused to -die or to cease struggling. And this little fight and -struggle of two flies curiously moved me, and for -some time I could not get over the feeling of intense -repugnance it excited. This feeling was wholly due -to association: the dagger-like weapon and the -action of the insect were curiously human-like, and -I had seen just such a combat between two men, -one fallen and the other on him, raising and striking -down with his knife. Had I never witnessed such -an incident, the two flies struggling, one killing -the other, would have produced no such feeling, -and would not have been remembered. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -We live in thoughts and feelings, not in days -and years— -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - In feelings, not in figures on a dial,<br /> -</p> - -<p class="poem"> -as some poet has said, and, recalling an afternoon -and an evening spent on this heath, it does not seem -to my mind like an evening passed alone in a vacant -place, in the usual way, watching and listening and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P47"></a>47}</span> -thinking of nothing, but an eventful period, which -deeply moved me, and left an enduring memory. -</p> - -<p> -The sun went down, and though the distressed -birds had cried till they were weary of crying, I did -not go away. Something on this occasion kept me, -in spite of the gathering gloom and a cold -wind—bitterly cold for June—which blew over the wide -heath. Here and there the rays from the setting -sun fell upon and lit up the few mounds that rise -like little islands out of the desolate brown waste. -These are the Pixie mounds, the barrows raised by -probably prehistoric men, a people inconceivably -remote in time and spirit from us, whose memory -is pale in our civilised days. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -"World-strangeness" -</span> -</p> - -<p> -There are times and moods in which it is revealed -to us, or to a few amongst us, that we are a survival -of the past, a dying remnant of a vanished people, -and are like strangers and captives among those who -do not understand us, and have no wish to do so; -whose language and customs and thoughts are not -ours. That "world-strangeness," which William -Watson and his fellow-poets prattle in rhyme about, -those, at all events, who have what they call the -"note of modernity" in their pipings, is not in me -as in them. The blue sky, the brown soil beneath, -the grass, the trees, the animals, the wind, and rain, -and sun, and stars are never strange to me; for I -am in and of and am one with them; and my flesh -and the soil are one, and the heat in my blood and -in the sunshine are one, and the winds and tempests -and my passions are one. I feel the "strangeness" -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P48"></a>48}</span> -only with regard to my fellow-men, especially in -towns, where they exist in conditions unnatural to -me, but congenial to them; where they are seen in -numbers and in crowds, in streets and houses, and -in all places where they gather together; when I -look at them, their pale civilised faces, their clothes, -and hear them eagerly talking about things that do -not concern me. They are out of my world—the real -world. All that they value, and seek and strain -after all their lives long, their works and sports -and pleasures, are the merest baubles and childish -things; and their ideals are all false, and nothing -but by-products, or growths, of the artificial -life—little funguses cultivated in heated cellars. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -The barrow on the heath -</span> -</p> - -<p> -In such moments we sometimes feel a kinship with, -and are strangely drawn to, the dead, who were not -as these; the long, long dead, the men who knew -not life in towns, and felt no strangeness in sun and -wind and rain. In such a mood on that evening I -went to one of those lonely barrows; one that rises -to a height of nine or ten feet above the level heath, -and is about fifty yards round. It is a garden in the -brown desert, covered over with a dense growth of -furze bushes, still in flower, mixed with bramble and -elder and thorn, and heather in great clumps, blooming, -too, a month before its time, the fiery purple-red -of its massed blossoms, and of a few tall, tapering -spikes of foxglove, shining against the vivid green -of the young bracken. -</p> - -<p> -All this rich wild vegetation on that lonely mound -on the brown heath! -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P49"></a>49}</span> -</p> - -<p> -Here, sheltered by the bushes, I sat and saw the -sun go down, and the long twilight deepen till the -oak woods of Beaulieu in the west looked black on -the horizon, and the stars came out: in spite of the -cold wind that made me shiver in my thin clothes, I -sat there for hours, held by the silence and solitariness -of that mound of the ancient dead. -</p> - -<p> -Sitting there, profoundly sad for no apparent cause, -with no conscious thought in my mind, it suddenly -occurred to me that I knew that spot from of old, -that in long-past forgotten years I had often come -there of an evening and sat through the twilight, -in love with the loneliness and peace, wishing that -it might be my last resting-place. To sleep there -for ever—the sleep that knows no waking! We say -it, but do not mean—do not believe it. Dreams do -come to give us pause; and we know that we have -lived. To dwell alone, then, with this memory of -life in such a spot for all time! There are moments -in which the thought of death steals upon and takes -us as it were by surprise, and it is then exceeding -bitter. It was as if that cold wind blowing over and -making strange whispers in the heather had brought -a sudden tempest of icy rain to wet and chill me. -</p> - -<p> -This miserable sensation soon passed away, and, -with quieted heart, I began to grow more and more -attracted by the thought of resting on so blessed a -spot. To have always about me that wildness which -I best loved—the rude incult heath, the beautiful -desolation; to have harsh furze and ling and bramble -and bracken to grow on me, and only wild creatures -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P50"></a>50}</span> -for visitors and company. The little stonechat, the -tinkling meadow-pipit, the excited whitethroat to -sing to me in summer; the deep-burrowing rabbit -to bring down his warmth and familiar smell among -my bones; the heat-loving adder, rich in colour, -to find when summer is gone a dry safe shelter and -hibernaculum in my empty skull. -</p> - -<p> -So beautiful did the thought appear that I could -have laid down my life at that moment, in spite of -death's bitterness, if by so doing I could have had -my desire. But no such sweet and desirable a thing -could be given me by this strange people and race -that possess the earth, who are not like the people -here with me in the twilight on the heath. For I -thought, too, of those I should lie with, having with -them my after life; and thinking of them I was no -longer alone. I thought of them not as others think, -those others of a strange race. What <i>do</i> they think? -They think so many things! The materialist, the -scientist, would say: They have no existence; they -ceased to be anything when their flesh was turned -to dust, or burned to ashes, and their minds, or -souls, were changed to some other form of energy, -or motion, or affection of matter, or whatever they -call it. The believer would not say of them, or of the -immaterial part of them, that they had gone into a -world of light, that in a dream or vision he had seen -them walking in an air of glory; but he might hold -that they had been preached to in Hades some -nineteen centuries ago, and had perhaps repented of -their barbarous deeds. Or he might think, since he -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P51"></a>51}</span> -has considerable latitude allowed him on the point, -that the imperishable parts of them are here at -this very spot, tangled in dust that was once flesh -and bones, sleeping like chrysalids through a long -winter, to be raised again at the sound of a trumpet -blown by an angel to a second conscious life, happy -or miserable as may be willed. -</p> - -<p> -I imagine none of these things, for they were with -me in the twilight on the barrow in crowds, sitting -and standing in groups, and many lying on their -sides on the turf below, their heads resting in their -hands. They, too, all had their faces turned towards -Beaulieu. Evening by evening for many and many -a century they had looked to that point, towards -the black wood on the horizon, where there were -people and sounds of human life. Day by day for -centuries they had listened with wonder and fear to -the Abbey bells, and to the distant chanting of the -monks. And the Abbey has been in ruins for -centuries, open to the sky and overgrown with ivy; but -still towards that point they look with apprehension, -since men still dwell there, strangers to them, the -little busy eager people, hateful in their artificial -indoor lives, who do not know and who care nothing -for them, who worship not and fear not the dead -that are underground, but dig up their sacred places -and scatter their bones and ashes, and despise and -mock them because they are dead and powerless. -</p> - -<p> -It is not strange that they fear and hate. I look -at them—their dark, pale, furious faces—and think -that if they could be visible thus in the daylight, all -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P52"></a>52}</span> -who came to that spot or passed near it would turn -and fly with a terrifying image in their mind which -would last to the end of life. But they do not resent -my presence, and would not resent it were I permitted -to come at last to dwell with them for ever. Perhaps -they know me for one of their tribe—know that -what they feel I feel, would hate what they hate. -</p> - -<p> -Has it not been said that love itself is an argument -in favour of immortality? All love—the love of men -and women, of a mother for her child, of a friend -for a friend—the love that will cause him to lay -down his life for another. Is it possible to believe, -they say, that this beautiful sacred flame can be -darkened for ever when soul and body fall asunder? -But love without hate I do not know and cannot -conceive; one implies the other. No good and no -bad quality or principle can exist (for me) without -its opposite. As old Langland wisely says: -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - For by luthere men know the good;<br /> - And whereby wiste men which were white<br /> - If all things black were?<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P53"></a>53}</span></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER III -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -A favourite New Forest haunt—Summertide—Young blackbird's -call—Abundance of blackbirds and thrushes, and destruction -of young—Starlings breeding—The good done by -starlings—Perfume of the honeysuckle—Beauty of the hedge -rose—Cult of the rose—Lesser whitethroat—His low -song—Common and lesser whitethroat—In the woods—A sheet of -bracken—Effect of broken surfaces—Roman mosaics at -Silchester—Why mosaics give pleasure—Woodland birds—Sound -of insect life—Abundance of flies—Sufferings of cattle—Dark -Water—Biting and teasing flies—Feeding the fishes -and fiddlers with flies. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Looking away from Beaulieu towards Southampton -Water there is seen on the border of -the wide brown heath a long line of tall firs, -a vast dark grove forming the horizon on that side. -This is the edge of an immense wood, and beyond the -pines which grow by the heath, it is almost -exclusively oak with an undergrowth of holly. It is -low-lying ground with many streams and a good deal of -bog, and owing to the dense undergrowth and the -luxuriance of vegetation generally this part of the -forest has a ruder, wilder appearance than at any -other spot. Here, too, albeit the nobler bird and -animal forms are absent, as is indeed the case in -all the New Forest district, animal life generally is in -greatest profusion and variety. This wood with its -surrounding heaths, bogs, and farm lands, has been -my favourite summer resort and hunting-ground for -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P54"></a>54}</span> -some years past. With a farm-house not many -minutes' walk from the forest for a home, I have here -spent long weeks at a time, rambling in the woods -every day and all day long, for the most time out -of sight of human habitations, and always with the -feeling that I was in my own territory, where -everything was as Nature made it and as I liked it to be. -Never once in all my rambles did I encounter that -hated being, the collector, with his white, spectacled -town face and green butterfly net. In this out-of-the-way -corner of the Forest one could imagine the -time come when this one small piece of England -which lies between the Avon and Southampton -Water will be a sanctuary for all rare and beautiful -wild life and a place of refreshment to body and soul -for all men. -</p> - -<p> -The richest, fullest time of the year is when June -is wearing to an end, when one knows without the -almanac that spring is over and gone. Nowhere in -England is one more sensible of the change to -fullest summer than in this low-lying, warmest -corner of Hampshire. -</p> - -<p> -The cuckoo ceases to weary us with its incessant -call, and the nightingale sings less and less frequently. -The passionate season is well-nigh over for birds; -their fountain of music begins to run dry. The -cornfields and waste grounds are everywhere splashed -with the intense scarlet of poppies. Summer has no -rain in all her wide, hot heavens to give to her -thirsty fields, and has sprinkled them with the red -fiery moisture from her own veins. And as colour -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P55"></a>55}</span> -changes, growing deeper and more intense, so do -sounds change: for the songs of yesterday there are -shrill hunger-cries. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Young blackbird's call -</span> -</p> - -<p> -One of the oftenest heard in all the open woods, -in hedges, and even out in the cornfields is the -curious musical call of the young blackbird. It is -like the chuckle of the adult, but not so loud, full, -happy, and prolonged; it is shriller, and drops at the -end to a plaintive, impatient sound, a little -pathetic—a cry of the young bird to its too long absent -mother. When very hungry he emits this shrill -musical call at intervals of ten to fifteen seconds; -it may be heard distinctly a couple of hundred -yards away. -</p> - -<p> -The numbers of young blackbirds and throstles -apparently just out of the nest astonish one. They -are not only in the copses and hedges, and on almost -every roadside tree, but you constantly see them -on the ground in the lanes and public roads, standing -still, quite unconscious of danger. The poor helpless -bird looks up at you in a sort of amazement, never -having seen men walking or riding on bicycles; but -he hesitates, not knowing whether to fly away or -stand still. Thrush or blackbird, he is curiously -interesting to look at. The young thrush, with his -yellowish-white spotty breast, the remains of down -on his plumage, his wide yellow mouth, and raised -head with large, fixed, toad-like eyes, has a distinctly -reptilian appearance. Not so the young blackbird, -standing motionless on the road, in doubt too as -to what you are; his short tail raised, giving him -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P56"></a>56}</span> -an incipient air of blackbird jauntiness; his plumage -not brown, indeed, as we describe it, but rich -chestnut-black, like the chestnut-black hair of a beautiful -Hampshire girl of that precious type with oval face -and pale dark skin. A pretty creature, rich in colour, -with a musical, pathetic voice, waiting so patiently -to be visited and fed, and a weasel perhaps watching -him from the roadside grass with hungry, bright -little eyes! How they die—thrushes and blackbirds—at -this perilous period in their lives! I sometimes -see what looks like a rudely painted figure of a bird -on the hard road: it is a young blackbird that had -not the sense to get out of the way of a passing team, -and was crushed flat by a hoof or wheel. It is but one -in a thousand that perishes in that way. One has to -remember that these two species of thrush—throstle -and blackbird—are in extraordinary abundance, that -next to starlings and chaffinches they abound over -all species; that they are exceedingly prolific, beginning -to lay in this southern country in February, and -rearing at least three broods in the season; and that -when winter comes round again the thrush and -blackbird population will be just about what it -was before. -</p> - -<p> -Fruit-eating birds do not much vex the farmer in -this almost fruitless country. Thrushes and finches -and sparrows are nothing to him: the starling, if -he pays any attention to the birds, he looks on as -a good friend. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Starlings breeding -</span> -</p> - -<p> -At the farm there are two very old yew trees -growing in the back-yard, and one of these, in an -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P57"></a>57}</span> -advanced state of decay, is full of holes and cavities -in its larger branches. Here about half a dozen pairs -of starlings nest every year, and by the middle of -June there are several broods of fully-fledged young. -At this time it was amusing to watch the parent -birds at their task, coming and going all day long, -flying out and away straight as arrows to this side -and that, every bird to its own favourite -hunting-ground. Some had their grounds in the meadow, -just before the house where the cows and geese were, -and it was easy to watch their movements. Out of -the yew the bird would shoot, and in ten or twelve -seconds would be down walking about in that busy, -plodding, rook-like way the starling has when -looking for something; and presently, darting his beak -into the turf, he would drag out something large, -and back he would fly to his young with a big, -conspicuous, white object in his beak. These white -objects which he was busily gathering every day, -from dawn to dark, were full-grown grubs of the -cockchafer. When watching these birds at their -work it struck me that the enormous increase of -starlings all over the country in recent years may -account for the fact that great cockchafer years do -not now occur. In former years these beetles were -sometimes in such numbers that they swarmed in -the air in places, and stripped the oaks of their leaves -in midsummer. It is now more than ten years since -I saw cockchafers in considerable numbers, and for a -long time past I have not heard of their appearance -in swarms anywhere. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P58"></a>58}</span> -</p> - -<p> -The starling is in some ways a bad bird, a cherry -thief, and a robber of other birds' nesting-places; -yaffle and nuthatch must hate him, but if his ministrations -have caused an increase of even one per cent. in -the hay crop, and the milk and butter supply, he -is, from our point of view, not wholly bad. -</p> - -<p> -In late June the unkept hedges are in the fullness -of their midsummer beauty. After sunset the -fragrance of the honeysuckle is almost too much: -standing near the blossom-laden hedge when there is no -wind to dissipate the odour, there is a heaviness in -it which makes it like some delicious honeyed liquor -which we are drinking in. The honeysuckle is indeed -first among the "melancholy flowers" that give out -their fragrance by night. In the daytime, when the -smell is faint, the pale sickly blossoms are hardly -noticed even where they are seen in masses and -drape the hedges. Of all the hedge-flowers, the rose -alone is looked at, its glory being so great as to make -all other blooms seem nothing but bleached or dead -discoloured leaves in comparison. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Beauty of the hedge rose -</span> -</p> - -<p> -He would indeed be a vainly ambitious person who -should attempt to describe this queen of all wild -flowers, joyous or melancholy; but substituting -flower for fruit, and the delight of the eye for the -pleasure of taste, we may in speaking of it quote -the words of a famous old writer, used in praise of -the strawberry. He said that doubtless God Almighty -could have made a better berry if He had been so -minded, but doubtless God Almighty never did. -</p> - -<p> -I esteem the rose not only for that beauty which -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P59"></a>59}</span> -sets it highest among flowers, but also because it -will not suffer admiration when removed from its -natural surroundings. In this particular it resembles -certain brilliant sentient beings that languish and -lose all their charms in captivity. Pluck your rose -and bring it indoors, and place it side by side with -other blossoms—yellow flag and blue periwinkle, and -shining yellow marsh-marigold, and poppy and -cornflower—and it has no lustre, and is no more to the -soul than a flower made out of wax or paper. Look -at it here, in the brilliant sunlight and the hot wind, -waving to the wind on its long thorny sprays all over -the vast disordered hedges; here in rosy masses, there -starring the rough green tangle with its rosy stars—a -rose-coloured cloud on the earth and Summer's -bridal veil—and you will refuse to believe (since it -will be beyond your power to imagine) that anywhere -on the earth, in any hot or temperate climate, there -exists a more divinely beautiful sight. -</p> - -<p> -If among the numberless cults that flourish in the -earth we could count a cult of the rose, to this spot -the votaries of the flower might well come each -midsummer to hold their festival. They would be -youthful and beautiful, their lips red, their eyes full -of laughter; and they would be arrayed in light -silken garments of delicate colour—green, rose, and -white; and their arms and necks and foreheads -would shine with ornaments of gold and precious -stones. In their hands would be musical instruments -of many pretty shapes with which they would sweetly -accompany their clear voices as they sat or stood -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P60"></a>60}</span> -beneath the old oak trees, and danced in sun and -shade, and when they moved in bright procession -along the wide grass-grown roads, through forest -and farm-land. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Lesser whitethroat -</span> -</p> - -<p> -In the summer of 1900 I found the lesser -whitethroat—the better whitethroat I should prefer to -call it—in extraordinary abundance in the large -unkept hedges east of the woods in the parishes of -Fawley and Exbury. Hitherto I had always found -this species everywhere thinly distributed; here it was -abundant as the reed-warblers along the dykes in the -flat grass-lands on the Somerset coast, and like the -reed-warblers in the reed- and sedge-grown ditches -and streams, each pair of whitethroats had its own -part of the hedge; so that in walking in a lane when -you left one singing behind you heard his next neighbour -singing at a distance of fifteen or twenty yards -farther on, and from end to end of the great hedge -you had that continuous beautiful low warble at -your side, and sometimes on both sides. The loud -brief song of this whitethroat, which resembles the -first part of a chaffinch's song, is a pleasant sound -and nothing more; the low warbling, which runs on -without a break for forty or fifty seconds, or longer, -is the beautiful song, and resembles the low -continuous warble of the blackcap, but is more varied, -and has one sound which is unique in the songs of -British birds. This is a note repeated two or three -times at intervals in the course of the song, of an -excessive sharpness, unlike any other bird sound, -but comparable to the silvery shrilling of the great -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P61"></a>61}</span> -green grasshopper—excessively sharp, yet musical. -The bird emits this same silver shrill note when -angry and when fighting, but it is then louder and -not so musical, and resembles the sharpest sounds -made by bats and other small mammals when excited. -</p> - -<p> -One day I sat down near a hedge, where an old -half-dead oak stood among the thorns and brambles, -and just by the oak a lesser whitethroat was moving -about and singing. Out among the furze bushes at -some distance from the hedge a common whitethroat -was singing, flitting and darting from bush -to bush, rising at intervals into the air and dropping -again into the furze; but by-and-by he rose to a -greater height to pour out his mad confused strain -in the air, then sloped away to the hedge and settled, -still singing, on the dead branch of the oak. Up -rose the lesser whitethroat and attacked it with -extreme fury, rising to a height of two or three feet -and dashing repeatedly at it, looking like a miniature -kestrel or hobby; and every time it descended the -other ducked his head and flattened himself on the -branch, only to rise again, crest erect and throat -puffed out, still pouring forth its defiant song. As long -as this lasted the attacking bird emitted his piercing -metallic anger-note, rapidly and continuously, like -the clicking of steel machinery. -</p> - -<p> -Alas! I fear I shall not again see the lesser -whitethroat as I saw him in that favoured year: in 1901 -he came not, or came in small numbers; and it was -the same in the spring of 1902. The spring was -cold and backward in both years, and the bitter -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P62"></a>62}</span> -continuous east winds which prevailed in March and -April probably proved fatal to large numbers of the -more delicate migrants. -</p> - -<p> -In this low, level country, sheltered by woods and -hedgerows, we feel the tremendous power of the sun -even before the last week in June. It is good to -feel, to bathe in the heat all day long; but at noon -one sometimes finds it too hot even on the open -heath, and is forced to take shelter in the woods. -It was always coolest on the high ground among -the pines, where the trees are very tall and there is -no underwood. In spring it was always pleasant to -walk here on the thick carpet of fallen needles and -old dead fern; now, in a very short time, the young -bracken has sprung up as if by miracle to a nearly -uniform height of about four feet. It spreads all -around me for many acres—an unbroken sea of -brilliant green, out of which rise the tall red columns -of the pines supporting the dark woodland roof. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A sheet of bracken -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Why is it, when in June the luxuriant young -bracken first drops its fully developed fronds, so that -frond touches frond, many overlapping, forming a -billowy expanse of vivid green, hiding, or all but -hiding, the brown or red soil beneath—why is it the -eyes rest with singular satisfaction on it? It is not -only because of the colour, nor the beauty of contrast -where the red floor of last year's beech leaves is seen -through the fresh verdure, and of dark red-boled -pines rising from the green sea of airy fronds. Colours -and contrasts more beautiful may be seen, and the -pleasure they give is different in kind. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P63"></a>63}</span> -</p> - -<p> -Here standing amid the fern, where it had at last -formed that waving surface and was a little above my -knees, it seemed to me that the particular satisfaction -I experienced was due to the fine symmetrical leafing -of the surface, the minute subdivision of parts which -produced an effect similar to that of a mosaic floor. -When I consider other surfaces, on land or water, -I find the same gratification in all cases where it is -broken or marked out or fretted in minute, more -or less orderly subdivisions. The glass-like or oily -surface of water, where there are no reflections to -bring other feelings in, does not hold or attract but -rather wearies the sight; but it is no sooner touched -to a thousand minute crinkles by the wind, than it -is looked at with refreshment and pleasure. The bed -of a clear stream, with its pavement of minute -variegated pebbles and spots of light and shade, -pleases in the same way. The sight rests with some -satisfaction even on a stagnant pond covered with -green duckweed; but the satisfaction is less in this -case on account of the extreme minuteness of the -parts and the too great smoothness. The roads and -open spaces in woods in October and November are -delightful to walk in when they are like richly -variegated floors composed of small pieces, and like dark -floors inlaid with red and gold of beech and oak -leaves. Numberless instances might be given, and we -see that the effect is produced even in small objects, -as, for instance, in scaly fishes and in serpents. -It is the minutely segmented texture of the serpent -which, with the colour, gives it its wonderful richness. -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P64"></a>64}</span> -For the same reason a crocodile bag is more admired -than one of cowhide, and a book in buckram looks -better than one in cloth or even vellum. -</p> - -<p> -The old Romans must have felt this instinctive -pleasure of the eye very keenly when they took such -great pains over their floors. I was strongly -impressed with this fact at Silchester when looking at -the old floors of rich and poor houses alike which -have been uncovered during the last two or three -years. They seem to have sought for the effect of -mosaic even in the meaner habitations, and in passages -and walks, and when tesserę could not be had they -broke up common tiles into small square fragments, -and made their floors in that way. Even with so -poor a material, and without any ornamentation, -they did get the effect sought, and those ancient -fragments of floors made of fragments of tiles, -unburied after so many centuries, do actually more -gratify the sight than the floors of polished oak or -other expensive material which are seen in our -mansions and palaces. -</p> - -<p> -There is doubtless a physiological reason for this -satisfaction to the eye, as indeed there is for so many -of the pleasurable sensations we experience in seeing. -We may say that the vision flies over a perfectly -smooth plain surface, like a ball over a sheet of ice, -and rests nowhere; but that in a mosaic floor the -segmentation of the surface stays and rests the sight. -To go no farther than that, which is but a part of the -secret, the sheet of fern fronds, on account of this -staying effect on the vision, increases what we see, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P65"></a>65}</span> -so that a surface of a dozen square yards of fern -seems more in extent than half an acre of -smooth-shaven lawn, or the large featureless floor of a -skating-rink or ball-room. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Harshening bird-voices -</span> -</p> - -<p> -On going or wading through the belt of bracken -under the tall firs—that billowy sea of fronds in the -midst of which I have so long detained my patient -reader—into the great oak wood beyond and below -it, on each successive visit during the last days of -June, the harshening of the bird voices became more -marked. Only the wren and wood-wren and willow-wren -uttered an occasional song, but the bigger birds -made most of the sound. Families of young jays were -then just out of the nest, crying with hunger, and -filling the wood with their discordant screams when -the parent birds came with food. A pair of kestrels, -too, with a nestful of young on a tall fir incessantly -uttered their shrill reiterated cries when I was near; -and one pair of green woodpeckers, with young out -of the breeding-hole but not yet able to fly, were -half crazed with anxiety. Around me and on before -me they flitted from tree to tree and clung to the bark, -wings spread out and crest raised, their loud laugh -changed to a piercing cry of anger that pained the sense. -</p> - -<p> -They were now moved only by solicitude and anger: -all other passion and music had gone out of the bird -and into the insect world. The oak woods were now -full of a loud continuous hum like that of a distant -threshing-machine; an unbroken deep sound composed -of ten thousand thousand small individual -sounds conjoined in one, but diffused and flowing -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P66"></a>66}</span> -like water over the surface, under the trees, and the -rough bushy tangle. The incredible number and -variety of blood-sucking flies makes this same low -hot part of the Forest as nearly like a transcript of -tropical nature in some damp, wooded district as -may be found in England. But these Forest flies, -even when they came in legions about me, were not -able to spoil my pleasure. It was delightful to see -so much life—to visit and sit down with them in -their own domestic circle. -</p> - -<p> -In other days, in a distant region, I have passed -many a night out of doors in the presence of a cloud -of mosquitoes; and when during restless sleep I have -pulled the covering from my face, they had me at -their mercy. For the smarts they inflicted on me -then I have my reward, since the venom they -injected into my veins has proved a lasting -prophylactic. But to the poor cattle this place must be a -very purgatory, a mazy wilderness swarming with -minute hellish imps that mock their horns and giant -strength, and cannot be shaken off. While sitting -on the roots of a tree in the heart of the wood, I -heard the heavy tramping and distressed bellowings of -several beasts coming at a furious rate towards me, -and presently half a dozen heifers and young bulls -burst through the bushes; and catching sight of me -at a distance of ten or twelve yards, they suddenly -came to a dead stop, glaring at me with strange, -mad, tortured eyes; then swerving aside, crashed -away through the undergrowth in another direction. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Dark Water -</span> -</p> - -<p> -In this wood I sought and found the stream well -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P67"></a>67}</span> -named the Dark Water; here, at all events, it is -grown over with old ivied oaks, with brambles and -briars that throw long branches from side to side, -making the almost hidden current in the deep shade -look black; but when the sunlight falls on it the -water is the colour of old sherry from the red soil -it flows over. No sooner had I sat down on the -bank, where I had a little space of sunlit water to -look upon, than the flies gathered thick about and -on me, and I began to pay some attention to -individuals among them. Those that came to suck blood, -and settled at once in a business-like manner on my -legs, were some hairy and some smooth, and of -various colours—grey, black, steel-blue, and barred -and ringed with bright tints; and with these -distinguished guests came numberless others, small lean -gnats mostly, without colour, and of no consideration. -I did not so much mind these as the others that -simply buzzed round without an object—flies that -have no beauty, no lancet to stab you with, and no -distinction of any kind, yet will persist in forcing -themselves on your attention. They buzz and buzz, -and are loudest in your ear when you are most -anxious to listen to some distant faint sound. If a -blood-sucker hurts you, you can slap him to death, -and there's an end of the matter; but slap at one -of these idle, aimless, teasing flies as hard as you -like, and he is gone like quicksilver through your -fingers. He is buzzing derisively in your ears: "Slap -away as much as you like—it pleases you and doesn't -hurt me." And then down again in the same place! -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P68"></a>68}</span> -</p> - -<p> -When the others—the serious flies on business -bent—got too numerous, I began to slap my legs, -killing one or two of the greediest at each slap, and -to throw their small corpses on the sunlit current. -These slain flies were not wasted, for very soon -I had quite a number of little minnows close to my -feet, eager to seize them as they fell. And, by-and-by, -three fiddlers, or pond-skaters, "sagacious of their -quarry from afar," came skating into sight on the -space of bright water; and to these mysterious, -uncanny-looking creatures—insect ghosts that walk -on the water, but with very unghost-like appetites—I -began tossing some of the flies; and each time -a fiddler seized a floating fly he skated away into -the shade with it to devour it in peace and quiet -all alone by himself. For a fiddler with a fly is like -a dog with a bone among other hungry dogs. When -I had finished feeding my ghosts and little fishes, -I got up and left the place, for the sun was travelling -west and the greatest heat was over. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P69"></a>69}</span></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER IV -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -The stag-beetle—Evening flight—Appearance on the -wing—Seeking a mate—Stag and doe in a hedge—The ploughman -and the beetle—A stag-beetle's fate—Concerning tenacity -of life—Life appearances after death—A serpent's skin—A -dead glow-worm's light—Little summer tragedies—A -snaky spot—An adder's basking-place—Watching adders—The -adder's senses—Adder's habits not well known—A pair -of anxious pewits—A dead young pewit—Animals without -knowledge of death—Removal of the dead by ants—Gould's -observations on ants. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -The stag-beetle -</span> -</p> - -<p> -During the last week in June we can look -for the appearance of our most majestical -insect; he is an evening flyer, and a little -before sunset begins to show himself abroad. He -is indeed a monarch among hexapods, with none -to equal him save, perhaps, the great goblin moth; -and in shape and size and solidity he bears about -the same relation to pretty bright flies as a horned -rhinoceros does to volatile squirrels and monkeys -and small barred and spotted felines. This is the -stag-beetle—"stags and does" is the native name -for the two sexes; he is probably more abundant -in this corner of Hampshire than in any other -locality in England, and among the denizens of -the Forest there are few more interesting. About -four or five o'clock in the afternoon, the ponderous -beetle wakes out of his long siesta, down among the -roots and dead vegetable matter of a thorny brake -or large hedge, and laboriously sets himself to work -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P70"></a>70}</span> -his way out. He is a slow, clumsy creature, a very -bad climber; and small wonder, when we consider -how he is impeded by his long branched horns when -endeavouring to make his way upwards through a -network of interlacing stems. -</p> - -<p> -As you walk by the hedge-side a strange noise -suddenly arrests your attention; it is the buzz of an -insect, but loud enough to startle you; it might be -mistaken for the reeling of a nightjar, but is perhaps -more like the jarring hum of a fast-driven motor-car. -The reason of the noise is that the beetle has -with great pains climbed up a certain height from -the ground, and, in order to ascertain whether he -has got far enough, he erects himself on his stand, -lifts his wing-cases, shakes out his wings, and begins -to agitate them violently, turning this way and that -to make sure that he has a clear space. If he then -attempts to fly—it is one of his common blunders—he -instantly strikes against some branch or cluster -of leaves, and is thrown down. The tumble does not -hurt him in the least, but so greatly astonishes him -that he remains motionless a good while; then -recovering his senses, he begins to ascend again. At -length, after a good many accidents and adventures -by the way, he gets to a topmost twig, and, after -some buzzing to get up steam, launches himself -heavily on the air and goes away in grand style. -</p> - -<p> -Hugh Miller, in his autobiography, tells of the -discovery he made of a curiously striking resemblance -in shape between our most elegantly made carriages -and the bodies of wasps, the resemblance being -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P71"></a>71}</span> -heightened by a similarity of colouring seen in the -lines and bands of vivid yellows and reds on a polished -black ground. This likeness between insect and -carriage does not appear so striking at this day owing -to a change in the fashion towards a more sombre -colour in the vehicles; their funeral blacks, dark -blues, and greens being now seldom relieved with -bright yellows and reds. The stag-beetle, too, when -he goes away with heavy flight always gives one the -idea of some kind of machine or vehicle, not like the -aerial phaeton of the wasp or hornet, with its graceful -lines and strongly-contrasted colours, but an oblong, -ponderous, armour-plated car, furnished with a beak, -and painted a deep uniform brown. -</p> - -<p> -Birds, especially the more aerial insectivorous -kinds, have the habit of flying at and teasing any -odd or grotesque-looking creature they may see on -the wing—as a bat, for instance. I have seen small -birds dart at a passing stag, but on coming near -they turn tail and fly from him, frightened perhaps -at his formidable appearance and loud noise. -</p> - -<p> -Notwithstanding his lumbering, blundering ways, -when the stag is abroad in search of the doe, you -may see that he is endowed with a sense and faculty -so exquisite as to make it appear almost miraculous -in the sureness of its action. The void air, as he -sweeps droning through it, is peopled with subtle -intelligences, which elude and mock and fly from -him, and which he pursues until he finds out their -secret. They mock him most, or, to drop the metaphor, -he is most at fault, on a still sultry day when -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P72"></a>72}</span> -not a breath of air is stirring. At times he catches -what, for want of better knowledge, we must call -a scent, and in order to fix the direction it comes -from he goes through a series of curious movements. -You will see him rise above a thorny thicket, or -a point where two hedges intersect at right angles, -and remain suspended on his wings a few inches -above the hedge-top for one or two minutes, loudly -humming, and turning by a succession of jerks all -round, pausing after each turn, until he has faced -all points of the compass. -</p> - -<p> -This failing, he darts away and circles widely -round, then returning to the central point suspends -himself as before. After spending several minutes -in this manner, he once more resumes his wanderings. -Several males are sometimes attracted to the same -spot, but they pass and repass without noticing one -another. You will see as many as three or four or -half a dozen majestically moving up and down at -a hedge-side or in a narrow path in a hazel copse, -each beetle turning when he gets to the end and -marching back again; and altogether their measured, -stately, and noisy movements are a fine spectacle. -</p> - -<p> -A slight wind makes a great difference to him: -even a current of air so faint as not to be felt on the -face will reveal to him the exact distant spot in which -the doe is lurking. The following incident will serve -to show how perfect and almost infallible the sense -and its correlated instinct are, and at the same time -what a clumsy, blundering creature this beetle is. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Seeking a mate -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Hearing a buzzing noise in a large unkept hedge, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P73"></a>73}</span> -I went to the spot and found a stag trying to extricate -himself from some soft fern-fronds growing among -the brambles in which he had got entangled. In the -end he succeeded, and, finally gaining a point where -there was nothing to obstruct his flight, he launched -himself on the air and flew straight away to a -distance of fifty yards; then he turned and commenced -flying backwards and forwards, travelling forty or -fifty yards one way and as many the other, until he -made a discovery; and struck motionless in his career, -he remained suspended for a moment or two, then -flew swiftly and straight as a bullet back to the -hedge from which he had so recently got away. He -struck the hedge where it was broadest, at a distance -of about twenty yards or more from the point where -I had first found him, and running to the spot, I saw -that he had actually alighted within four or five -inches of a female concealed among the clustering -leaves. On his approaching her she coyly moved from -him, climbing up and down and along the branchlets, -but for some time he continued very near her. -So far he had followed on her track, or by the same -branches and twigs over which she had passed, but -on her getting a little farther away and doubling -back, he attempted to reach her by a series of short -cuts, over the little bridges formed by innumerable -slender branches, and his short cuts in most cases -brought him against some obstruction; or else there -was a sudden bend in the branch, and he was taken -farther away. When he had a chain of bridges or -turnings, he seemed fated to take the wrong one, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P74"></a>74}</span> -and in spite of all his desperate striving to get nearer, -he only increased the distance between them. The -level sun shone into the huge tangle of bramble, -briar, and thorn, with its hundreds of interlacing -branches and stringy stems, so that I was able to -keep both beetles in sight; but after I had watched -them for three-quarters of an hour, the sun departed, -and I too left them. They were then nearly six -feet apart; and seeing what a labyrinth they -were in, I concluded that, strive how the enamoured -creature might, they would never, from the stag-beetle -point of view, be within measurable distance of -one another. -</p> - -<p> -Something in the appearance of the big beetle, -both flying and when seen on the ground in his -wrathful, challenging attitude, strikes the rustics of -these parts as irresistibly comic. When its heavy -flight brings it near the labourer in the fields, he -knocks it down with his cap, then grins at the sight -of the maltreated creature's amazement and -indignation. However weary the ploughman may be -when he plods his homeward way, he will not be too -tired to indulge in this ancient practical joke. When -the beetle's flight takes him by village or hamlet, the -children, playing together in the road, occupied with -some such simple pastime as rolling in the dust or -making little miniature hills of loose sand, are -suddenly thrown into a state of wild excitement, and, -starting to their feet, they run whooping after the -wanderer, throwing their caps to bring him down. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A stag-beetle's fate -</span> -</p> - -<p> -One evening at sunset, on coming to a forest gate -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P75"></a>75}</span> -through which I had to pass, I saw a stag-beetle -standing in his usual statuesque, angry or threatening -attitude in the middle of the road close to the -gate. Doubtless some labourer who had arrived at -the gate earlier in the evening had struck it down -for fun and left it there. By-and-by, I thought, he -will recover from the shock to his dignity and make -his way to some elevated point, from which he will -be able to start afresh on his wanderings in search -of a wife. But it was not to be as I thought, for next -morning, on going by the same gate, I found the -remains of my beetle just where I had last seen -him—the legs, wing-cases, and the big, broad head with -horns attached. The poor thing had remained -motionless too long, and had been found during the -evening by a hedgehog and devoured, all but the -uneatable parts. On looking closely, I found that -the head was still alive; at a touch the antennę—those -mysterious jointed rods, toothed like a comb -at their ends—began to wave up and down, and the -horns opened wide, like the jaws of an angry crab. -On placing a finger between them they nipped it -as sharply as if the creature had been whole and -uninjured. Yet the body had been long devoured -and digested; and there was only this fragment left, -and, torn off with it, shall we say? a fragment of -intelligent life! -</p> - -<p> -We always look on this divisibility of the -life-principle in some creatures with a peculiar -repugnance; and, like all phenomena that seem to -contradict the regular course of nature, it gives a -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P76"></a>76}</span> -shock to the mind. We do not experience this feeling -with regard to plant life, and to the life of some of -the lower animal organisms, because we are more -familiar with the sight in these cases. The trouble -to the mind is in the case of the higher life of sentient -and intelligent beings that have passions like our -own. We see it even in some vertebrates, especially -in serpents, which are most tenacious of life. Thus, -there is a recorded case of a pit viper, the head of -which was severed from the body by the person who -found it. When the head was approached the jaws -opened and closed with a vicious snap, and when the -headless trunk was touched it instantly recoiled and -struck at the touching object. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Tenacity of life -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Such cases are apt to produce in some minds a -sense as of something unfamiliar and uncanny behind -nature that mocks us. But even those who are entirely -free from any such animistic feeling are strangely -disturbed at the spectacle, not only because it is -opposed to the order of nature (as the mind -apprehends it), but also because it contradicts the old -fixed eternal idea we all have, that life is compounded -of two things—the material body and the immaterial -spirit, which leavens and, in a sense, re-creates and -shines in and through the clay it is mixed with; and -that you cannot destroy the body without also -destroying or driving out that mysterious, subtle -principle. Life was thus anciently likened to a seal, -which is two things in one—the wax and the impression -on it. You cannot break the seal without also -destroying the impression, any more than you can -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P77"></a>77}</span> -break a pitcher without spilling the liquor in it. In -such cases as those of the beetle and the serpent, it -would perhaps be better to liken life to a red, glowing -ember, which may be broken into pieces, and each -piece still burn and glow with its own portion of the -original heat. -</p> - -<p> -The survival after death of something commonly -supposed to be dependent on vitality is another -phenomenon which, like that of the divisibility of -the life-principle, affects us disagreeably. The -continued growth of the hair of dead men is an instance -in point. It is, we know, an error, caused by the -shrinking of the flesh; and as for the accounts of -coffins being found full of hair when opened, they -are inventions, though still believed in by some -persons. Another instance, which is not a fable, is -that of a serpent's skin. When properly and quickly -dried after removal, it will retain its bright colours -for an indefinite time—in some cases for many years. -But at intervals the colours appear to fade, or become -covered with a misty whiteness; and the cause, as -one may see when the skin is rubbed or shaken, is -that the outer scales are being shed. They come off -separately, and are very much thinner than when -the living serpent sheds his skin, and they grow -thinner with successive sheddings until they are -scarcely visible. But at each shedding the skin -recovers its brightness. One in my possession -continued shedding its scale-films in this way for about -ten years. I used it for a book-marker and often had -it in my hands, but not until it ceased shedding its -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P78"></a>78}</span> -scale-coverings, and its original bright green colour -turned to dull blackish-green, did I get rid of the -feeling that it had some life in it. -</p> - -<p> -But the most striking instance of the continuance -or survival long after death of what has seemed an -attribute or manifestation of life remains to be told. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A dead glow-worm's light -</span> -</p> - -<p> -One cloudy, very dark night at Boldre, I was going -home across a heath with some girls from a farmhouse -where we had been visiting, when one of my -young companions cried out that she could see a -spark of fire on the road before us. We then all -saw it—a small, steady, green light—but on lighting -a match and looking closely at the spot, nothing -could we see except the loose soil in the road. When -the match went out the spark of green fire was there -still, and we searched again, turning the loose soil -with our fingers until we discovered the dried and -shrunken remains of a glow-worm of the previous -year. It had been trodden into the sand, and the -sand driven into it, until it was hard to make out -any glow-worm shape or appearance in it. It was -like a fragment of dry earth, and yet, so long as it -was in the dark, the small, brilliant green light -continued to shine from one end of it. Yet this dried -old case must have been dead and blown about in -the dust for at least seven or eight months. -</p> - -<p> -On going up to London I carried it with me in a -small box: there in a dark room it shone once more, -but the light was now much fainter, and on the -following evening there was no light. For some -days I tried, by moistening it, by putting it out -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P79"></a>79}</span> -in the sun and wind, and in other ways, to bring -back the light, but did not succeed; and, convinced -at length that it would shine no more, I had the -feeling that life had at last gone out of that dry, -dusty fragment. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The little summer tragedies in Nature which we -see or notice are very few—not one in a thousand -of those that actually take place about us in a spot -like this, teeming with midsummer life. A second -one, which impressed me at the time, had for its -scene a spot not more than eight minutes' walk -from that forest gate where the stag-beetle, too long -in cooling his wrath, had been overtaken by so -curious a destiny. But before I relate this other -tragedy, I must describe the place and some of the -creatures I met there. It was a point where heath -and wood meet, but do not mingle; where the marshy -stream that drains the heath flows down into the -wood, and the boggy ground sloping to the water -is overgrown with a mixture of plants of different -habits—lovers of a dry soil and of a wet—heather -and furze, coarse and fine grasses, bracken and bog -myrtle; and in the wettest spots there were patches -and round masses of rust-red and orange-yellow and -pale-grey lichen, and a few fragrant, shining, yellow -stars of the bog asphodel, although its flowering season -was nearly over. It was a perfect wilderness, as wild -a bit of desert as one could wish to be in, where a -man could spy all day upon its shy inhabitants, and -no one would come and spy upon him. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P80"></a>80}</span> -</p> - -<p> -Here, if anywhere, was my exulting thought when -I first beheld it, there should be adders for me. -There was a snakiness in the very look of the place, -and I could almost feel by anticipation the delightful -thrill in my nerves invariably experienced at the -sight of a serpent. And as I went very cautiously -along, wishing for the eyes of a dragon-fly so as to -be able to see all round me, a coil of black and -yellow caught my sight at a distance of a few yards -ahead, and was no sooner seen than gone. The spot -from which the shy creature had vanished was a -small, circular, natural platform on the edge of the -bank, surrounded with grass and herbage, and a -little dwarf, ragged furze; the platform was -composed of old, dead bracken and dry grass, and had -a smooth, flat surface, pressed down as if some -creature used it as a sleeping-place. It was, I saw, -the favourite sleeping- or basking-place of an adder, -and by-and-by, or in a few hours' time, I should be -able to get a good view of the creature. Later in the -day, on going back to the spot, I did find my adder -on its platform, and was able to get within three or -four yards, and watch it for some minutes before -it slipped gently down the bank and out of sight. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Watching adders -</span> -</p> - -<p> -This adder was a very large (probably gravid) -female, very bright in the sunshine, the broad, -zig-zag band an inky black on a straw-coloured ground. -On my third successful visit to the spot I was -agreeably surprised to find that my adder had not been -widowed by some fatal accident, nor left by her -wandering mate to spend the summer alone; for -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P81"></a>81}</span> -now there were two on the one platform, slumbering -peacefully side by side. The new-comer, the male, -was a couple of inches shorter and a good deal -slimmer than his mate, and differed in colour; the -zigzag mark was intensely black, as in the other, -but the ground colour was a beautiful copper red; -he was, I think, the handsomest red adder I have seen. -</p> - -<p> -On my subsequent visits to the spot I found -sometimes one and sometimes both; and I observed them -a good deal at different distances. One way was to -look at them from a distance of fifteen to twenty -yards through a binocular magnifying nine diameters, -which produced in me the fascinating illusion of -being in the presence of venomous serpents of a -nobler size than we have in this country. The glasses -were for pleasure only. When I watched them for -profit with my unaided eyes, I found it most -convenient to stand at a distance of three or four yards; -but often I moved cautiously up to the raised platform -they reposed on, until, by bending a little -forward, I could look directly down upon them. -</p> - -<p> -When we first catch sight of an adder lying at rest -in the sun, it strikes us as being fast asleep, so -motionless is it; but that it ever does really sleep with the -sun shining into its round, lidless, brilliant eyes is -hardly to be believed. The immobility which we -note at first does not continue long; watch the adder -lying peacefully in the sun, and you will see that at -intervals of a very few minutes, and sometimes as -often as once a minute, he quietly changes his position. -Now he draws his concentric coils a little closer, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P82"></a>82}</span> -now spreads them more abroad; by-and-by the whole -body is extended to a sinuous band, then disposed -in the form of a letter S, or a simple horseshoe -figure, and sometimes the head rests on the body -and sometimes on the ground. The gentle, languid -movements of the creature changing his position at -intervals are like those of a person reclining in a hot bath, -who occasionally moves his body and limbs to renew -and get the full benefit of the luxurious sensation. -</p> - -<p> -That the two adders could see me when I stood -over them, or at a distance of three or four yards, -or even more, is likely; but it is certain that they did -not regard me as a living thing, or anything to be -disturbed at, but saw me only as a perfectly -motionless object which had grown imperceptibly on their -vision, and was no more than a bush, or stump, or -tree. Nevertheless, I became convinced that always -after standing for a time near them my presence -produced a disturbing effect. It is, perhaps, the case -that we are not all contained within our visible bodies, -but have our own atmosphere about us—something -of us which is outside of us, and may affect other -creatures. More than that, there may be a subtle -current which goes out and directly affects any -creature (or person) which we regard for any length -of time with concentrated attention. This is one of -the things about which we know nothing, or, at all -events, learn nothing from our masters, and most -scientists would say that it is a mere fancy; but in -this instance it was plain to see that always after -a time something began to produce a disturbing effect -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P83"></a>83}</span> -on the adders. This would first show itself in a slight -restlessness, a movement of the body as if it had -been breathed upon, increasing until they would be -ill at ease all the time, and at length they would -slip quietly away to hide under the bank. -</p> - -<p> -The following incident will show that they were -not disturbed at seeing me standing near, assuming -that they could or did see me. On one of my visits -I took some pieces of scarlet ribbon to find out by -an experiment if there was any truth in the old belief -that the sight of scarlet will excite this serpent to -anger. I approached them in the usual cautious way, -until I was able, bending forward, to look down upon -them reposing unalarmed on their bed of dry fern; -then, gradually putting one hand out until it was -over them, I dropped from it first one then another -piece of silk so that they fell gently upon the edge -of the platform. The adders must have seen these -bright objects so close to them, yet they did not -suddenly draw back their heads, nor exsert their -tongues, nor make the least movement, but it was -as if a dry, light, dead leaf, or a ball of thistledown, -had floated down and settled near them, and they -had not heeded it. -</p> - -<p> -In the same way they probably saw me, and it -was as if they had seen me not, since they did not -heed my motionless figure; but that they always -felt my presence after a time I felt convinced, for -not only when I stood close to and looked down -upon them, but also at a distance of four to eight -yards, after gazing fixedly at them for some minutes, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P84"></a>84}</span> -the change, the tremor, would appear, and in a little -while they would steal away. -</p> - -<p> -Enough has been said to show how much I liked -the company of these adders, even when I knew that -my presence disturbed their placid lives in some -indefinable way. They were indeed more to me -than all the other adders, numbering about a score, -which I had found at their favourite basking-places -in the neighbourhood. For they were often to be -found in that fragrant, sequestered spot where their -home was; and they were two together, of different -types, both beautiful, and by observing them day -by day I increased my knowledge of their kind. -We do not know very much about "the life and -conversation" of adders, having been too much -occupied in "bruising" their shining beautiful bodies -beneath our ironshod heels, and with sticks and stones, -to attend to such matters. So absorbed was I in -contemplating or else thinking about them at that -spot that I was curiously indifferent to the other -creatures—little lizards, and butterflies, and many -young birds brought by their parents to the willows -and alders that shaded the stream. All day the -birds dozed on their gently swaying perches, chirping -at intervals to be fed; and near by a tree-pipit -had his stand, and sang and sang when most songsters -were silent, but I paid no attention even to -his sweet strains. Two or three hundred yards away, -up the stream on a boggy spot, a pair of pewits -had their breeding-place. They were always there, -and invariably on my appearance they rose up and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P85"></a>85}</span> -came to me, and, winnowing the air over my head, -screamed their loudest. But I took no notice, and -was not annoyed, knowing that their most piercing -cries would have no effect on the adders, since their -deaf ears heard nothing, and their brilliant eyes saw -next to nothing, of all that was going on about them. -After vexing their hearts in vain for a few minutes -the pewits would go back to their own ground, -then peace would reign once more. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A dead young pewit -</span> -</p> - -<p> -One day I was surprised and a little vexed to find -that the pewits had left their own ground to come -and establish themselves on the bog within forty -yards of the spot where I was accustomed to take -my stand when observing the adders. Their anxiety -at my presence had now become so intensified that -it was painful to witness. I concluded that they had -led their nearly grown-up young to that spot, and -sincerely hoped that they would be gone on the -morrow. But they remained there five days; and -as their solicitude and frantic efforts to drive me -away were renewed on each visit, they were a source -of considerable annoyance. On the fourth day I -accidentally discovered their secret. If I had not -been so taken up with the adders, I might have -guessed it. Going over the ground I came upon a -dead full-grown young pewit, raised a few inches -above the earth by the heather it rested on, its head -dropped forward, its motionless wings partly open. -</p> - -<p> -Usually at the moment of death a bird beats -violently with its wings, and after death the wings -remain half open. This was how the pewit had died, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P86"></a>86}</span> -the wings half folded. Picking it up, I saw that it had -been dead several days, though the carrion beetles -had not attacked it, owing to its being several inches -above the ground. It had, in fact, no doubt been -already dead when I first found the old pewits settled -at that spot; yet during those four hot, long summer -days they had been in a state of the most intense -anxiety for the safety of these dead remains! This -is to my mind not only a very pathetic spectacle, -but one of the strangest facts in animal life. The -reader may say that it is not at all strange, since it -is very common. It is most strange to me because -it is very common, since if it were rare we could say -that it was due to individual aberration, or resulted -through the bluntness of some sense or instinct. -What is wonderful and almost incredible is that the -higher vertebrates have no instinct to guide them in -such a case as I have described, and no inherited -knowledge of death. To make of Nature a person, -we may see that in spite of her providential care for -all her children, and wise ordering of their lives -down to the minutest detail, she has yet failed in -this one thing. Her only provision is that the dead -shall be speedily devoured; but they are not thus -removed in numberless instances; a very familiar -one is the sight of living and dead young birds, the -dead often in a state of decay, lying together in one -nest: and here we cannot but see that the dead -become a burden and a danger to the living. Birds -and mammals are alike in this. They will call, and -wait for, and bring food to, and try to rouse the dead -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P87"></a>87}</span> -young or mate; day and night they will keep guard -over it and waste themselves in fighting to save it -from their enemies. Yet we can readily believe that -an instinct fitted to save an animal from all this -vain excitement, and labour, and danger, would be -of infinite advantage to the species that possessed it. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Animals and their dead -</span> -</p> - -<p> -In some social hymenopterous insects we see that -the dead are removed; it would be impossible for -ants to exist in communities numbering many thousands -and tens of thousands of members crowded in -a small space without such a provision. The dead -ant is picked up by the first worker that happens to -come that way and discovers it, and carried out and -thrown away. Probably some chemical change which -takes place in the organism on the cessation of life -and makes it offensive to the living has given rise -to this healthy instinct. The dead ant is not indeed -seen as a dead fellow-being, but as so much rubbish, -or "matter in the wrong place," and is accordingly -removed. We can confidently say that this is not a -knowledge of death, from what has been observed -of the behaviour of ants on the death of some highly -regarded individual in the nest—a queen, for -instance. On this point I will quote a passage from -the Rev. William Gould's <i>Account of English Ants</i>, -dated 1747. His small book may be regarded as a -classic, at all events by naturalists; albeit the -editors of our <i>Dictionary of National Biography</i> have -not thought proper to give him a place in that work, -in which so many obscurities, especially of the -nineteenth century, have had their little lives recorded. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P88"></a>88}</span> -</p> - -<p> -It may be remarked in passing that the passage to -be quoted is a very good sample of the style of our -oldest entomologist, the first man in England to -observe the habits of insects. His small volume dates -many years before the <i>Natural History of Selborne</i>, -and his style, it will be seen, is very different from -that of Gilbert White. We know from Lord Avebury's -valuable book on the habits of ants that Gould was -not mistaken in these remarkable observations. -</p> - -<p class="quote"> -In whatever Apartment a Queen Ant condescends to be -present, she commands Obedience and Respect. An universal -Gladness spreads itself through the whole Cell, which is expressed -by particular Acts of Joy and Exultation. They have a peculiar -Way of skipping, leaping, and standing upon their Hind Legs, -and prancing with the others. These Frolicks they make use of, -both to congratulate each other when they meet, and to show -their Regard for the Queen.... Howsoever romantick this -Description may appear, it may easily be proved by an obvious -Experiment. If you place a Queen Ant with her Retinue under a -Glass, you will in a few Moments be convinced of the Honour -they pay, and Esteem they entertain for her. There cannot -be a more remarkable Instance than what happened to a Black -Queen, the beginning of last Spring. I had placed her with a -large Retinue in a sliding Box, in the Cover of which was an -Opening sufficient for the Workers to pass to and fro, but so narrow -as to confine the Queen. A Corps was constantly in waiting and -surrounded her, whilst others went out in search of Provisions. -By some Misfortune she died; the Ants, as if not apprised of -her Death, continued their Obedience. They even removed her -from one Part of the Box to another, and treated her with the -same Court and Formality as if she had been alive. This lasted -two Months, at the End of which, the Cover being open, they -forsook the Box, and carried her off. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Two days after I found the dead pewit the parent -birds disappeared; and a little later I paid my last -visit to the adders, and left them with the greatest -reluctance, for they had not told me a hundredth -part of their unwritten history. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P89"></a>89}</span></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER V -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -Cessation of song—Oak woods less silent than others—Mixed -gatherings of birds in oak woods—Abundance of -caterpillars—Rapacious insects—Wood ants—Alarm cries of woodland -birds—Weasel and small birds—Fascination—Weasel and -short-tailed vole—Account of Egyptian cats fascinated by -fire—Rabbits and stoats—Mystery of fascination—Cases of -pre-natal suggestion—Hampshire pigs fascinated by -fire—Conjectures as to the origin of fascination—A dead -squirrel—A squirrel's fatal leap—Fleas large and small—Shrew and -fleas—Fleas in woods—The squirrel's disposition—Food-hiding -habit in animals—Memory in squirrels and dogs—The -lower kind of memory. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The nightingale ceases singing about 18th or -20th June. A bird here and there may sing -later; I occasionally hear one as late as the -first days of July. And because the nightingale is -not so numerous as the other singers, and his song -attracts more attention, we get the idea that his -musical period is soonest over. Yet several other -species come to the end of their vocal season quite -as early, or but little later. If it be an extremely -abundant species, as in the case of the willow-wren, -we will hear a score or fifty sing for every -nightingale. Blackcap and garden warbler, whitethroat -and lesser whitethroat, are nearly silent, too, at the -beginning of July; and altogether it seems to be -the rule that the species oftenest heard after June -are the most abundant. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P90"></a>90}</span> -</p> - -<p> -The woodland silence increases during July and -August, not only because the singing season is ended, -but also because the birds are leaving the woods: -that darkness and closeness which oppresses us when -we walk in the deep shade is not congenial to them; -besides, food is less plentiful than in the open places, -where the sun shines and the wind blows. -</p> - -<p> -Woods, again, vary greatly in character and the -degree of attractiveness they have for birds: the -copse and spinney keep a part of their population -through the hottest months; and coming to large -woods the oak is never oppressive like the beech -and other deciduous trees. It spreads its branches -wide, and has wide spaces which let in the light -and air; grass and undergrowth flourish beneath it, -and, better than all, it abounds in bird food on its -foliage above all trees. -</p> - -<p> -My favourite woods were almost entirely of oak -with a holly undergrowth, and at some points oaks -were mixed with firs. They were never gloomy nor -so silent as most woods; but in July, as a rule, one -had to look for the birds, since they were no longer -distributed through the wood as in the spring and -early summer, but were congregated at certain points. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Mixed bird-companies -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Most persons are familiar with those companies of -small birds which form in woods in winter, composed -of tits of all species, with siskins, goldcrests, and -sometimes other kinds. The July gatherings are -larger, include more species, and do not travel -incessantly like the winter companies. They are -composed of families—parent birds and their young, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P91"></a>91}</span> -lately out of the nest, brought to the oaks to be fed -on caterpillars. It may be that their food is more -abundant at certain points, but it is also probable -that their social disposition causes them to -congregate. Walking in the silent woods you begin to -hear them at a considerable distance ahead—a great -variety of sounds, mostly of that shrill, sharp, -penetrative character which is common to many young -passerine birds when calling to be fed. The birds -will sometimes be found distributed over an acre -of ground, a family or two occupying every large -oak tree—tits, finches, warblers, the tree-creeper, -nuthatch, and the jay. What, one asks, is the jay -doing in such company? He is feeding at the same -table, and certainly not on them. All, jays included, -are occupied with the same business, minutely -examining each cluster of leaves, picking off every -green caterpillar, and extracting the chrysalids from -every rolled-up leaf. The airy little leaf-warblers -and the tits do this very deftly; the heavier birds -are obliged to advance with caution along the twig -until by stretching the neck they can reach their -prey lurking in the green cluster, and thrust their -beaks into each little green web-fastened cylinder. -But all are doing the same thing in pretty much the -same way. While the old birds are gathering food, -the young, sitting in branches close by, are -incessantly clamouring to be fed, their various calls -making a tempest of shrill and querulous sounds in -the wood. And the shrillest of all are the long-tailed -tits; these will not sit still and wait like the others, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P92"></a>92}</span> -but all, a dozen or fifteen to a brood, hurry after -their busy parents, all the time sending out those -needles of sound in showers. Of hard-billed birds -the chaffinch, as usual, was the most numerous, but -there were, to my surprise, many yellowhammers; -all these, like the rest, with their newly brought out -young. The presence of the hawfinch was another -surprise; and here I noticed that the hunger call of -the young hawfinch is the loudest of all—a measured, -powerful, metallic chirp, heard high above the -shrill hubbub. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Caterpillars and ants -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Watching one of these busy companies of small -birds at work, one is amazed at the thought of the -abundance of larval insect life in these oak woods. -The caterpillars must be devoured in tens of -thousands every day for some weeks, yet when the time -comes one is amazed again at the numbers that have -survived to know a winged life. On July evenings -with the low sun shining on the green oaks at this -place I have seen the trees covered as with a pale -silvery mist—a mist composed of myriads of small -white and pale-grey moths fluttering about the oak -foliage. Yet it is probable that all the birds eat is -but a small fraction of the entire number destroyed. -The rapacious insects are in myriads too, and are -most of them at war with the soft-bodied caterpillars. -The earth under the bed of dead leaves is -full of them, and the surface is hunted over all day -by the wood or horse ants—<i>Formica rufa</i>. One day, -standing still to watch a number of these ants moving -about in all directions over the ground, I saw a green -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P93"></a>93}</span> -geometer caterpillar fall from an oak leaf above to -the earth, and no sooner had it dropped than an ant -saw and attacked it, seizing it at one end of its body -with his jaws. The caterpillar threw itself into a -horseshoe form, and then, violently jerking its body -round, flung the ant away to a distance of a couple -of inches. But the attack was renewed, and three -times the ant was thrown violently off; then another -ant came, and he, too, was twice thrown off; then a -third ant joined in the fight, and when all three had -fastened their jaws on their victim the struggle ceased, -and the caterpillar was dragged away. That is the -fate of most caterpillars that come to the ground. -But the ants ascend the trees; you see them going -up and coming down in thousands, and you find -on examination that they distribute themselves over -the whole tree, even to the highest and farthest -terminal twigs. And their numbers are incalculable—here -in the Forest, at all events. Not only are their -communities large, numbering hundreds of thousands -in a nest, but their nests here are in hundreds, and it -is not uncommon to find them in groups, three or -four up to eight or ten, all within a distance of a few -yards of one another. -</p> - -<p> -I had thought to write more, a whole chapter in -fact, on this fascinating and puzzling insect—our -"noble ant," as our old ant-lover Gould called it; -but I have had to throw out that and much besides in -order to keep this book within reasonable dimensions. -</p> - -<p> -There is another noise of birds in all woods -and copses in the silent season which is familiar to -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P94"></a>94}</span> -everyone—the sudden excited cries they utter at the -sight of some prowling animal—fox, cat, or stoat. -Even in the darkest, stillest woods these little tempests -of noise occasionally break out, for no sooner does -one bird utter the alarm cry than all within hearing -hasten to the spot to increase the tumult. These -tempests are of two kinds—the greater and lesser; -in the first jays, blackbirds, and missel-thrushes take -part, the magpie too, if he is in the wood, and almost -invariably the outcry is caused by the appearance -of one of the animals just named. In the smaller -outbreaks, which are far more frequent, none of these -birds take any part, not even the excitable blackbird, -in spite of his readiness to make a noise on the -least provocation. Only the smaller birds are -concerned here, from the chaffinch down; and the weasel -is, I believe, almost always the exciting cause. If -it be as I think, a curious thing is that birds like the -chaffinch and the tits, which have their nests placed -out of its reach, should be so overcome at the sight -of this minute creature which hunts on the ground, -and which blackbirds and jays refuse to notice in -spite of the outrageous din of the finches. The -chaffinch is invariably first and loudest in these -outbreaks; a dozen or twenty times a day, even in -July and August, you will hear his loud passionate -<i>pink-pink</i> calling on all of his kind to join him, and -by-and-by, if you can succeed in getting to the -spot, you will hear other species joining in—the -girding of oxeye and blue tit, the angry, percussive -note of the wren, the low wailing of the robin, and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P95"></a>95}</span> -the still sadder dunnock, and the small plaintive -cries of the tree-warblers. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Weasel and small birds -</span> -</p> - -<p> -What an idle demonstration, what a fuss about -nothing it seems! The minute weasel is on the track -of a vole or a wood-mouse and cannot harm the -birds. Yes, he can take the nestlings from the robin's -and willow-wren's nests, and from other nests built -on the ground, but what has the chaffinch to do with -it all? Can it be that there is some fatal weakness -in birds, in spite of their wings, in this bird especially, -such as exists in voles, and mice, and rabbits, and in -frogs and lizards, which brings them down to -destruction, and of which they are in some way conscious? -Some months ago there was a correspondence in the -<i>Field</i> which touched upon this very subject. One -gentleman wrote that he had found three freshly-killed -adult cock chaffinches in a weasel's nest, and -he asked in consequence how this small creature -that hunts on the ground could be so successful -in capturing so alert and vigorous a bird as -this finch. -</p> - -<p> -For a long time before this correspondence appeared -I had been trying to find out the secret of the matter, -but the weasel has keen senses, and it is hard to see -and follow his movements in a copse without -alarming him. One day, over a year ago, near Boldre, I -was fortunate enough to hear a commotion of the -lesser kind at a spot where I could steal upon -without alarming the little beast. There was an oak -tree, with some scanty thorn-bushes growing beside -the trunk, and stealing quietly to the spot I peeped -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P96"></a>96}</span> -through the screening thorns, and saw a weasel -lying coiled round, snakewise, at the roots of the -oak in a bed of dead leaves. He was grinning and -chattering at the birds, his whole body quivering -with excitement. Close to him on the twigs above -the birds were perched, and fluttering from twig to -twig—chaffinches, wrens, robins, dunnocks, oxeyes, -and two or three willow-wrens and chiffchaffs. The -chaffinches were the most excited, and were nearest -to him. Suddenly, after a few moments, the weasel -began wriggling and spinning round with such -velocity that his shape became indistinguishable, and -he appeared as a small round red object violently -agitated, his rapid motions stirring up the dead -leaves so that they fluttered about him. Then he -was still again, but chattering and quivering, then -again the violent motion, and each time he made -this extraordinary movement the excitement and -cries of the birds increased and they fluttered closer -down on the twigs. Unluckily, just when I was on -the point of actually witnessing the end of this -strange little drama—a chaffinch, I am sure, would -have been the victim—the little flat-headed wretch -became aware of my presence, not five yards from -him, and springing up he scuttled into hiding. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Fascination -</span> -</p> - -<p> -If, as I think, certain species of birds are so thrown -off their mental balance by the sight of this enemy as -to come in their frenzy down to be taken by him, it -is clear that he fascinates—to use the convenient old -word—in two different ways, or that his furred and -feathered victims are differently affected. In the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P97"></a>97}</span> -case of the rabbits and of the small rodents, we see -that they recognise the dangerous character of their -pursuer and try their best to escape from him, but -that they cannot attain their normal speed—they -cannot run as they do from a man, or dog, or other -enemy, or as they run ordinarily when chasing one -another. Yet it is plain to anyone who has watched -a rabbit followed by a stoat that they strain every -nerve to escape, and, conscious of their weakness, -are on the brink of despair and ready to collapse. -The rabbit's appearance when he is being followed, -even when his foe is at a distance behind, his -trembling frame, little hopping movements, and agonising -cries, which may be heard distinctly three or four -hundred yards away, remind us of our own state -in a bad dream, when some terrible enemy, or -some nameless horror, is coming swiftly upon us; -when we must put forth our utmost speed to escape -instant destruction, yet have a leaden weight on -our limbs that prevents us from moving. -</p> - -<p> -I have often watched rabbits hunted by stoats, -and recently, at Beaulieu, I watched a vole hunted -by a weasel, and it was simply the stoat and rabbit -hunt in little. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Weasel and vole -</span> -</p> - -<p> -It is a typical case, and I will describe just what -I saw, and saw very well. I was on the hard, white -road between Beaulieu village and Hilltop, when the -little animal—a common field vole—came out from -the hedge and ran along the road, and knowing from -his appearance that he was being pursued, I stood -still to see the result. He had a very odd look: -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P98"></a>98}</span> -instead of a smooth-haired little mouse-like creature -running smoothly and swiftly over the bare ground, -he was all hunched up, his hair standing on end like -bristles, and he moved in a series of heavy painful -hops. Before he had gone half a dozen yards, the -weasel appeared at the point where the vole had -come out, following by scent, his nose close to the -ground; but on coming into the open road he lifted -his head and caught sight of the straining vole, and -at once dashed at and overtook him. A grip, a little -futile squeal, and all was over, and the weasel -disappeared into the hedge. But his mate had crossed -the road a few moments before—I had seen her run -by me—and he wanted to follow her, and so presently -he emerged again with the vole in his mouth, and -plucking up courage ran across close to me. I stood -motionless until he was near my feet, then suddenly -stamped on the hard road, and this so startled him -that he dropped his prey and scuttled into cover. -Very soon he came out again, and, seeing me so -still, made a dash to recover his vole, when I stamped -again, and he lost it again and fled; but only to -return for another try, until he had made at least a -dozen attempts. Then he gave it up, and peering at -me in a bird-like way from the roadside grass began -uttering a series of low, sorrowful sounds, so low -indeed that if I had been more than six yards from -him they would have been inaudible—low, and soft, -and musical, and very sad, until he quite melted my -heart, and I turned away, leaving him to his vole, -feeling as much ashamed of myself as if I had teased -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P99"></a>99}</span> -a pretty bright-eyed little child by keeping his cake -or apple until I had made him cry. -</p> - -<p> -With regard to these fatal weaknesses in birds, -mammals and reptiles, which we see are confined to -certain species, they always strike us as out of the -order of nature, or as abnormal, if the word may be -used in such a connection. Perhaps it can be properly -used. I remember that Herodotus, in his <i>History of -Egypt</i>, relates that when a fire broke out in any city -in that country, the people did not concern -themselves about extinguishing it; their whole anxiety -was to prevent the cats from rushing into the flames -and destroying themselves. To this end the people -would occupy all the approaches to the burning -building, forming a cordon, as it were, to keep the -cats back; but in spite of all they could do, some of -them would get through, and rush into the flames -and die. The omniscient learned person may tell me -that Herodotus is the Father of Lies, if he likes, and -is anxious to say something witty and original; but -I believe this story of the cats, since not Herodotus, -nor any Egyptian who was his informant, would or -could have invented such a tale. Believing it, I can -only explain it on the assumption that this Egyptian -race of cats had become subject to a fatal weakness, -a hypnotic effect caused by the sight of a great blaze. -In like manner, if our chaffinch gets too much excited -and finally comes down to be destroyed by a weasel, -when he catches sight of that small red animal, or -sees him going through that strange antic performance -which I witnessed, it does not follow that the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P100"></a>100}</span> -weakness or abnormality is universal in the species. -It may be only in a race. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Strange weaknesses -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Again, with regard to rabbits: when hunted by a -stoat they endeavour to fly, but cannot, and are -destroyed owing to that strange—one might almost -say unnatural—weakness; but I can believe that if -a colony of British rabbits were to inhabit, for a -good many generations, some distant country where -there are no stoats, this weakness would be outgrown. -It is probable that, even in this stoat-infested -country, not all individuals are subject to such a -failing, and that, in those which have it, it differs in -degree. If it is a weakness, a something inimical, then it -is reasonable to believe that nature works to eliminate -it, whether by natural selection or some other means. -</p> - -<p> -The main point is the origin of this flaw in certain -races, and perhaps species. How comes it that -certain animals should, in certain circumstances, act -in a definite way, as by instinct, to the detriment of -their own and the advantage of some other species—in -this case that of a direct and well-known enemy? -It is a mystery, one which, so far as I know, has not -yet been looked into. A small ray of light may be -thrown on the matter, if we consider the fact of those -strange weaknesses and mental abnormalities in our -own species, which are supposed to have their origin -in violent emotional and other peculiar mental states -in one of our parents. "The fathers have eaten sour -grapes, and their children's teeth are set on edge," -is one of the old proverbs quoted by Ezekiel. I -know of one unfortunate person who, if he but sees -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P101"></a>101}</span> -a lemon squeezed, or a child biting an unripe-looking -fruit, has his teeth so effectually set on edge, that he -cannot put food into his mouth for some time after. -Here is a farmer, a big, strong, healthy man, who -himself works on his farm like any labourer, who, -if he but catches sight of any ophidian—adder, or -harmless grass snake, or poor, innocent blindworm—instantly -lets fall the implements from his hands, -and stands trembling, white as a ghost, for some -time; then, finally, he goes back to the house, slowly -and totteringly, like some very aged, feeble invalid, -and dropping on to a bed, he lies nerveless for the -rest of that day. Night and sleep restore him to -his normal state. -</p> - -<p> -I give this one of scores of similar cases which I -have found. Such things are indeed very common. -But how does the fact of pre-natal suggestion help -us to get the true meaning of such a phenomenon as -fascination? It does not help us if we consider it by -itself. It is a fact that "freaks" of this kind, mental -and physical, are transmissible, but that helps us -little—the abnormal individual has the whole normal -race against him. Thus, in reference to the cat story -in Herodotus, here in a Hampshire village, a mile or -two from where I am writing this chapter, a cottage -took fire one evening, and when the villagers were -gathered on the spot watching the progress of the -fire, some pigs—a sow with her young ones—appeared -on the scene and dashed into the flames. The people -rushed to the rescue, and with some difficulty pulled -the pigs out; and finally hurdles had to be brought -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P102"></a>102}</span> -and placed in the way of the sow to prevent her -getting back, so anxious was she to treat the villagers -to roast pig. -</p> - -<p> -This is a case of the hypnotic effect of fire on -animals, and perhaps many similar cases would be -found if looked for. We know that most animals -are strangely attracted by fire at night, but they -fear it too, and keep at a proper distance. It draws -and disturbs but does not upset their mental balance. -But how it came about that a whole race of cats in -ancient Egypt were thrown off their balance and -were always ready to rush into destruction like the -Hampshire pigs, is a mystery. -</p> - -<p> -To return to fascination. Let us (to personify) -remember that Nature in her endeavours to safeguard -all and every one of her creatures has given -them the passion of fear in various degrees, according -to their several needs, and in the greatest degree to -her persecuted weaklings; and this emotion, to be -efficient, must be brought to the extreme limit, -beyond which it becomes debilitating and is a positive -danger, even to betraying to destruction the life it -was designed to save. Let us consider this fact in -connection with that of pre-natal suggestion—of -weak species frequently excited to an extremity of -fear at the sight, familiar to them, of some deadly -enemy, and the possible effect of that constantly -recurring violent disturbance and image of terror -on the young that are to be. -</p> - -<p> -The guess may go for what it is worth. We know -that the susceptibility of certain animals—the vole -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P103"></a>103}</span> -and the frog, let us say—to fascination, is like nothing -else in animal life, since it is a great disadvantage -to the species, a veritable weakness, which might -even be called a disease; and that it must therefore -have its cause in too great a strain on the system -somewhere; and we know, too, that it is inheritable. -But the facts are too few, since no one has yet taken -pains to collect data on the matter. There is a good -deal of material lying about in print; and I am -astonished at many things I hear from intelligent -keepers, and other persons who see a good deal of -wild life, bearing on this subject. But I do not now -propose to follow it any further. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -I went into the oak wood one morning, and, finding -it unusually still, betook myself to a spot where I had -often found the birds gathered. It was a favourite -place, where there was running water and very large -trees standing wide apart, with a lawn-like green turf -beneath them. This green space was about half an -acre in extent, and was surrounded by a thicker wood -of oak and holly, with an undergrowth of brambles. -Here I found a dead squirrel lying on the turf under -one of the biggest oaks, looking exceedingly -conspicuous with the bright morning sun shining on him. -</p> - -<p> -A poor bag! the reader may say, but it was the -day of small things at the end of July, and this dead -creature gave me something to think about. How in -the name of wonder came it to be dead at that peaceful -place, where no gun was fired! I could not believe -that he had died, for never had I seen a finer, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P104"></a>104}</span> -glossier-coated, better-nourished-looking squirrel. "Whiter -than pearls are his teeth," were Christ's words in the -legend when His followers looked with disgust and -abhorrence at a dead dog lying in the public way. -This dead animal had more than pearly teeth to -admire; he was actually beautiful to the sight, -lying graceful in death on the moist green sward in -his rich chestnut reds and flower-like whiteness. The -wild, bright-eyed, alert little creature—it seemed a -strange and unheard-of thing that he, of all the -woodland people, should be lying there, motionless, -not stiffened yet and scarcely cold. -</p> - -<p> -A keeper in Hampshire told me that he once saw -a squirrel accidentally kill itself in a curious way. -The keeper was walking on a hard road, and noticed -the squirrel high up in the topmost branches of the -trees overhead, bounding along from branch to -branch before him, and by-and-by, failing to grasp -the branch it had aimed at, it fell fifty or sixty feet -to the earth, and was stone-dead when he picked it -up from the road. But such accidents must be -exceedingly rare in the squirrel's life. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Fleas large and small -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Looking closely at my dead squirrel to make sure -that he had no external hurt, I was surprised to find -its fur peopled with lively black fleas, running about -as if very much upset at the death of their host. -These fleas were to my eyes just like <i>pulex irritans</i>—our -own flea; but it is doubtful that it was the same, -as we know that a great many animals have their -own species to tease them. Now, I have noticed that -some very small animals have very small fleas; and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P105"></a>105}</span> -that, one would imagine, is as it should be, since fleas -are small to begin with, because they cannot afford to -be large, and the flea that would be safe on a dog -would be an unsuitable parasite for so small a creature -as a mouse. The common shrew is an example. It -has often happened that when in an early morning -walk I have found one lying dead on the path or -road and have touched it, out instantly a number of -fleas have jumped. And on touching it again, there -may be a second and a third shower. These fleas, -parasitical on so minute a mammal, are themselves -minute—pretty sherry-coloured little creatures, not -half so big as the dog's flea. It appears to be a habit -of some wild fleas, when the animal they live on dies -and grows cold, to place themselves on the surface -of the fur and to hop well away when shaken. But -we do not yet know very much about their lives. -Huxley once said that we were in danger of being -buried under our accumulated monographs. There -is, one is sorry to find, no monograph on the fleas; a -strange omission, when we consider that we have, as -the life-work of an industrious German, a big -handsome quarto, abundantly illustrated, on the more -degraded and less interesting <i>Pedicularia</i>. -</p> - -<p> -The multitude of fleas, big and black, on my dead -squirrel, seemed a ten-times bigger puzzle than the -one of the squirrel's death. For how had they got -there? They were not hatched and brought up on -the squirrel: they passed their life as larvę on the -ground, among the dead leaves, probably feeding on -decayed organic matter. How did so many of them -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P106"></a>106}</span> -succeed in getting hold of so very sprightly and -irritable a creature, who lives mostly high up in the -trees, and does not lie about on the ground? Can -it be that fleas—those proper to the squirrel—swarm -on the ground in the woods, and that without feeding -on mammalian blood they are able to propagate and -keep up their numbers? These questions have yet -to be answered. -</p> - -<p> -It struck me at last that these sprightly parasites -might have been the cause of the squirrel's coming -to grief; that, driven to desperation by their -persecutions, he had cast himself down from some topmost -branch, and so put an end to the worry with his life. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A squirrel's disposition -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Squirrels abound in these woods, and but for -parasites and their own evil tempers they might be happy -all the time. But they are explosive and tyrannical -to an almost insane degree; and this may be an -effect of the deleterious substances they are fond of -eating. They will feast on scarlet and orange -agarics—lovely things to look at, but deadly to creatures -that are not immune. A prettier spectacle than two -squirrels fighting is not to be seen among the oaks. -So swift are they, so amazingly quick in their -doublings, in feints, attack, flight, and chase; moving -not as though running on trees and ground, but as -if flying and gliding; and so rarely do they come -within touching distance of one another, that the -delighted looker-on might easily suppose that it is -all in fun. In their most truculent moods, in their -fiercest fights, they cannot cease to be graceful in -all their motions. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P107"></a>107}</span> -</p> - -<p> -A common action of squirrels, when excited, of -throwing things down, has been oddly misinterpreted -by some observers who have written about it. Here -I have often watched a squirrel, madly excited at my -presence when I have stopped to watch him, dancing -about and whisking his tail, scolding in a variety of -tones, and emitting that curious sound which reminds -one of the chattering cry of fieldfares when alarmed; and -finally tearing off the loose bark with his little hands -and teeth, and biting, too, at twigs and leaves so as to -cause them to fall in showers. The little pot boils over -in that way, and that's all there is to be said about it. -</p> - -<p> -Walking among the oaks one day in early winter -when the trees were nearly leafless, I noticed a squirrel -sitting very quietly on a branch; and though he did -not get excited, he began to move away before me, -stopping at intervals and sitting still to watch me -for a few moments. He was a trifle suspicious, and -nothing more. In this way he went on for some -distance, and by-and-by came to a long horizontal -branch thickly clothed with long lichen on its upper -sides, and instantly his demeanour changed. He was -all excitement, and bounding along the branch he -eagerly began to look for something, sniffing and -scratching with his paws, and presently he pulled -out a nut which had been concealed in a crevice -under the lichen, and sitting up, he began cracking -and eating it, taking no further notice of me. The -sudden change in him, the hurried search for something, -and the result, seemed to throw some light on -the question of the animal's memory with reference -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P108"></a>108}</span> -to his habit of hiding food. It is one common to -a great number of rodents, and to many of the -higher mammals—Canidę and Felidę, and to many -birds, including most, if not all, the Corvidę. -</p> - -<p> -When the food is hidden away here, there, and -everywhere, we know from observation that in -innumerable instances it is never found, and probably -never looked for again; and of the squirrel we are -accustomed to say that he no sooner hides a nut -than he forgets all about it. Doubtless he does, and -yet something may bring it back to his mind. In -this matter I think there is a considerable difference -between the higher mammals, cats and dogs, for -instance, and the rodents; I think the dog has a -better or more highly developed memory. Thus, I -have seen a dog looking enviously at another who had -got a bone, and after gazing at him with watering -mouth for some time, suddenly turn round and go -off at a great pace to a distant part of the ground, -and there begin digging, and presently pull out a -bone of his own, which he had no doubt forgotten all -about until he was feelingly reminded of it. I doubt -if a squirrel would ever rise to this height; but on -coming by chance to a spot with very marked features, -where he had once hidden a nut, then I think the -sight of the place might bring back the old impression. -</p> - -<p> -I have often remarked when riding a nervous -horse, that he will invariably become alarmed, and -sometimes start at nothing, on arriving at some spot -where something had once occurred to frighten him. -The sight of the spot brings up the image of the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P109"></a>109}</span> -object or sound that startled him; or, to adopt a -later interpretation of memory, the past event is -reconstructed in his mind. Again, I have noticed -with dogs, when one is brought to a spot where on -a former occasion he has battled with or captured -some animal, or where he has met with some -exciting adventure, he shows by a sudden change in -his manner, in eyes and twitching nose, that it has -all come back to him, and he appears as if looking -for its instant repetition. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -The lower kind of memory -</span> -</p> - -<p> -We see that we possess this lower kind of memory -ourselves—that its process is the same in man and -dog and squirrel. I am, for instance, riding or -walking in a part of the country which all seems -unfamiliar, and I have no recollection of ever having -passed that way before; but by-and-by I come to -some spot where I have had some little adventure, -some mishap, tearing my coat or wounding my hand -in getting through a barbed-wire fence; or where -I had discovered that I had lost something, or left -something behind at the inn where I last stayed; -or where I had a puncture in my tyre; or where I -first saw a rare and beautiful butterfly, or bird, or -flower, if I am interested in such things; and the -whole scene—the fields and trees and hedges, and -farm-house or cottage below—is all as familiar as -possible. But it is the scene that brings back the -event. The scene was impressed on the mind at -the emotional moment, and is instantly recognised, -and at the moment of recognition the associated -event is remembered. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P110"></a>110}</span></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VI -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -Insects in Britain—Meadow ants—The indoor view of insect -life—Insects in visible nature—The humming-bird hawk-moth -and the parson lepidopterist—Rarity of death's-head -moth—Hawk-moth and meadow-pipit—Silver-washed -fritillaries on bracken—Flight of the white admiral -butterfly—Dragon-flies—Want of English names—A water-keeper on -dragon-flies—Moses Harris—Why moths have English -names—Origin of the dragon-fly's bad reputation—<i>Cordulegaster -annulatus</i>—<i>Calopteryx virgo</i>—Dragon-flies -congregated—Glow-worm—Firefly and glow-worm -compared—Variability -in light—The insect's attitude when shining—Supposed use -of the light—Hornets—A long-remembered sting—The -hornet local in England—A splendid insect—Insects on -ivy blossoms in autumn. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The successive Junes, Julys, and Augusts -spent in this low-lying, warm forest country -have served to restore in my mind the insect -world to its proper place in the scheme of things. In -recent years, in this northern land, it had not seemed -so important a place as at an earlier period of my -life in a country nearer to the sun. Our insects, less -numerous, smaller in size, more modest in colouring, -and but rarely seen in swarms and clouds and -devastating multitudes, do not force themselves on our -attention, as is the case in many other regions of -the earth. Here, for instance, where I am writing -this chapter, there is a stretch of flat, green, common -land by the Test, and on this clouded afternoon, at -the end of summer, while sitting on one of the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P111"></a>111}</span> -innumerable little green hillocks covering the common, -it seemed to me that I was in a vacant place where -animal life had ceased to be. Not an insect hummed -in that quiet, still atmosphere, not could I see one -tiny form on the close-cropped turf at my feet. Yet -I was sitting on one of their populous habitations. -Cutting out a section of the cushion-like turf of -grass and creeping thyme that covered the hill and -made it fragrant, I found the loose, dry earth within -teeming with minute yellow ants, and many of the -hillocks around were occupied by thousands upon -thousands of the same species. Indeed, I calculated -that in a hundred square yards at that spot the ant -inhabitants alone numbered not less than about two -hundred thousand. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -The unregarded tribes -</span> -</p> - -<p> -It is partly on account of this smallness and -secretiveness of most of our insects—of our seeing so -little of insect life generally except during the summer -heats in a few favourable localities—and partly an -effect of our indoor life, that we think and care so -little about them. The important part they play, -if it is taught us, fades out of knowledge: we grow in -time to regard them as one of the superfluities in -which nature abounds despite the ancient saying to -the contrary. Or worse, as nothing but pests. What -good are they to us indeed! Very little. The -silk-worm and the honey-bee have been in a measure -domesticated, and rank with, though a long way -after, our cattle, our animal pets and poultry. But -wild insects! There is the turnip-fly, and the -Hessian-fly, and botfly, and all sorts of worrying, and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P112"></a>112}</span> -blood-sucking, and disease-carrying flies, in and out -of houses; and gnats and midges, and fleas in seaside -lodgings, and wasps, and beetles, such as the cockchafer -and blackbeetle—are not all these pests? This -is the indoor mind—its view of external nature—which -makes the society of indoor people unutterably -irksome to me, unless (it will be understood) -when I meet them in a house, in a town, where they -exist in some sort of harmony, however imperfect, -with their artificial environment. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Insects in visible nature -</span> -</p> - -<p> -I am not concerned now with the question of the -place which insects occupy in the scale of being and -their part in the natural economy, but solely with -their effect on the nature-lover with or without the -"curious mind"—in fact, with insects as part of -this visible and audible world. Without them, this -innumerable company that, each "deep in his day's -employ," are ever moving swiftly or slowly about -me, their multitudinous small voices united into one -deep continuous Ęolian sound, it would indeed seem -as if some mysterious malady or sadness had come -upon nature. Rather would I feel them alive, teasing, -stinging, and biting me; rather would I walk in all -green and flowery places with a cloud of gnats and -midges ever about me. Nor do I wish to write -now about insect life generally: my sole aim in this -chapter is to bring before the reader some of the -most notable species seen in this place—those which -excel in size or beauty, or which for some other -reason are specially attractive. For not only is this -corner of Hampshire most abounding in insect life, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P113"></a>113}</span> -but here, with a few exceptions, the kings and nobles -of the tribe may be met with. -</p> - -<p> -Merely to see these nobler insects as one may see -them here, as objects in the scene, and shining -gems in nature's embroidery, is a delight. And -here it may be remarked that the company of the -entomologist is often quite as distasteful to me -out of doors as that of the indoor-minded person -who knows nothing about insects except that they -are a "nuisance." Entomologist generally means -collector, and his—the entomologist's—admiration -has suffered inevitable decay, or rather has been -starved by the growth of a more vigorous plant—the -desire to possess, and pleasure in the possession -of, dead insect cases. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -The parson lepidopterist -</span> -</p> - -<p> -One summer afternoon I was visiting at the -parsonage in a small New Forest village in this low -district when my host introduced me to a friend of -his the vicar of a neighbouring parish, remarking -when he did so that I would be delighted to know -him as he was a great naturalist. The gentleman -smiled, and said he was not a "great naturalist," -but only a "lepidopterist." Now it happened that -just then I had a lovely picture in my mind, the -vivid image of a humming-bird hawk-moth seen -suspended on his misty wings among the tall flowers in -the brilliant August sunshine. I had looked on it -but a little while ago, and thought it one of the -most beautiful things in nature; naturally on meeting -a lepidopterist I told him what I had seen, and -something of the feeling the sight had inspired in me. He -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P114"></a>114}</span> -smiled again, and remarked that the season had not -proved a very good one for the <i>Macroglossa stellatarum</i>. -He had, so far, seen only three specimens; -the first two he had easily secured, as he fortunately -had his butterfly net when he saw them. But the -third!—he hadn't his net then; he was visiting one -of his old women, and was sitting in her garden -behind the cottage talking to her when the moth -suddenly made its appearance, and began sucking -at the flowers within a yard of his chair. He knew -that in a few moments it would be gone for ever, -but fortunately from long practice, and a natural -quickness and dexterity, he could take any insect -that came within reach of his hand, however wild and -swift it might be. "So!"—the parson lepidopterist -explained, suddenly dashing out his arm, then slowly -opening his closed hand to exhibit the imaginary -insect he had captured. Well, he got the moth after -all! And thus owing to his quickness and dexterity -all three specimens had been secured. -</p> - -<p> -I, being no entomologist but only a simple person -whose interest and pleasure in insect life the entomologist -would regard as quite purposeless—I felt like a -little boy who had been sharply rebuked or boxed -on the ear. This same lepidopterist may be dead -now, although a couple of summers ago he looked -remarkably well and in the prime of life; but I see -that someone else is now parson of his parish. I -have not taken the pains to inquire; but, dead or -alive, I cannot imagine him, in that beautiful country -of the Future which he perhaps spoke about to the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P115"></a>115}</span> -old cottage woman—I cannot imagine him in white -raiment, with a golden harp in his hand; for if here, -in this country, he could see nothing in a hummingbird -hawk-moth among the flowers in the sunshine -but an object to be collected, what in the name of -wonder will he have to harp about! -</p> - -<p> -The humming-bird hawk, owing to its diurnal -habits, may be seen by anyone at its best; but as -to the other species that equal and surpass it in -lustre, their beauty, so far as man is concerned, is -all wasted on the evening gloom. They appear -suddenly, are vaguely seen for a few moments, then -vanish; and instead of the clear-cut, beautiful form, -the rich and delicate colouring and airy, graceful -motions, there is only a dim image of a moving grey -or brown something which has passed before us. -And some of the very best are not to be seen even as -vague shapes and as shadows. What an experience it -would be to look on the death's-head moth in a state -of nature, feeding among the flowers in the early -evening, with some sunlight to show the delicate -grey-blue markings and mottlings of the upper- and -the indescribable yellow of the under-wings—is there -in all nature so soft and lovely a hue? Even to see it -alive in the only way we are able to do, confined in -a box in which we have hatched it from a chrysalis -dug up in the potato patch and bought for sixpence -from a workman, to look on it so and then at its -portrait—for artists and illustrators have been trying -to do it these hundred years—is almost enough to -make one hate their art. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P116"></a>116}</span> -</p> - -<p> -My ambition has been to find this moth free, in -order to discover, if possible, whether or no it ever -makes its mysterious squeaking sound when at -liberty. But I have not yet found it, and lepidopterists -I have talked to on this subject, some of whom -have spent their lives in districts where the insect is -not uncommon, have assured me that they have never -seen, and never expect to see, a death's-head which -has not been artificially reared. Yet moths there -must be, else there would be no caterpillars and -no chrysalids. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Moths and butterflies -</span> -</p> - -<p> -One evening, in a potato-patch, I witnessed a large -hawk-moth meet his end in a way that greatly -surprised me. I was watching and listening to the -shrilling of a great green grasshopper, or leaf cricket, -that delightful insect about which I shall have to -write at some length in another chapter, when the -big moth suddenly appeared at a distance of a dozen -yards from where I stood. It was about the size of -a privet-moth, and had not been many moments -suspended before a spray of flowers, when a meadow-pipit, -which had come there probably to roost, dashed -at and struck it down, and then on the ground began -a curious struggle. The great moth, looking more -than half as big as the aggressor, beat the pipit with -his strong wings in his efforts to free himself; but -the other had clutched the soft, stout body in its -claws, and standing over it with wings half open and -head feathers raised, struck repeatedly at it with the -greatest fury until it was killed. Then, in the same -savage hawk-like manner, the dead thing was torn -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P117"></a>117}</span> -up, the pipit swallowing pieces so much too large -for it that it had the greatest trouble to get them -down. The gentle, timid, little bird had for the -moment put on the "rage of the vulture." -</p> - -<p> -In the southern half of the New Forest, that part -of the country where insects of all kinds most abound, -the moths and butterflies are relatively less important -as a feature of the place, and as things of beauty, than -some other kinds. The purple emperor is very rarely -seen, but the silver-washed fritillary, a handsome, -conspicuous insect, is quite common, and when several -of these butterflies are seen at one spot playing about -the bracken in some open sunlit space in the oak -woods, opening their orange-red spotty wings on the -broad, vivid green fronds, they produce a strikingly -beautiful effect. It is like a mosaic of minute green -tesserę adorned with red and black butterfly shapes, -irregularly placed. -</p> - -<p> -But here the most charming butterfly to my mind -is the white admiral, when they are seen in numbers, -as in the abundant season of 1901, when the oak -woods were full of them. Here is a species which, -seen in a collection, is of no more value ęsthetically -than a dead leaf or a frayed feather dropped in the -poultry-yard, or an old postage stamp in an album, -without a touch of brilliance on its dull blackish-brown -and white wings; yet which alive pleases the -eye more than the splendid and larger kinds solely -because of its peculiarly graceful flight. It never -flutters, and as it sweeps airily hither and thither, -now high as the tree-tops, now close to the earth in -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P118"></a>118}</span> -the sunny glades and open brambly places in the -oak woods, with an occasional stroke of the -swift-gliding wings, it gives you the idea of a smaller, -swifter, more graceful swallow, and sometimes of a -curiously-marked, pretty dragon-fly. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Dragon-flies -</span> -</p> - -<p> -When we think of the bright colours of insects, the -dragon-flies usually come next to butterflies in the -mind, and here in the warmer, well-watered parts of -the Forest they are in great force. The noble <i>Anax -imperator</i> is not uncommon; but though so great, -exceeding all other species in size, and so splendid -in his "clear plates of sapphire mail," with great -blue eyes, he is surpassed in beauty by a much -smaller kind, the <i>Libellula virgo alts erectis coloratis</i> -of Linnęus, now called <i>Calopteryx virgo</i>. And just -as the great <i>imperator</i> is exceeded in beauty by the -small <i>virgo</i>, so is he surpassed in that other chief -characteristic of all dragon-flies to the unscientific -or natural mind, their uncanniness, by another quite -common species, a very little less than the <i>imperator</i> -in size—the <i>Cordulegaster annulatus</i>. -</p> - -<p> -These names are a burden, and a few words must -be said on this point lest the reader should imagine -that he has cause to be offended with me personally. -</p> - -<p> -Is it not amazing that these familiar, large, showy, -and striking-looking insects have no common specific -names with us? The one exception known to me is -the small beautiful <i>virgo</i> just spoken of, and this is -called in books "Demoiselle" and "King George," -but whether these names are used by the people -anywhere or not, I am unable to say. On this point -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P119"></a>119}</span> -I consulted an old water-keeper of my acquaintance -on the Test. He has been keeper for a period of -forty-six years, and he is supposed to be very -intelligent, and to know everything about the creatures -that exist in those waters and water-meadows. He -assured me that he never heard the names of Demoiselle -and King George. "We calls them dragons and -horse-stingers," he said. "And they do sting, and no -mistake, both horse and man." He then explained that -the dragon-fly dashes at its victim, inflicts its sting, and -is gone so swiftly that it is never detected in the act; -but the pain is there, and sometimes blood is drawn. -</p> - -<p> -Nor had the ancient water-keeper ever heard -another vernacular name given by Moses Harris -for this same species—kingfisher, to wit. Moses -Harris, one of our earliest entomologists, wrote -during the last half of the eighteenth century, but -the date of his birth and the facts of his life are not -known. He began to publish in 1766, his first work -being on butterflies and moths. One wonders if -the unforgotten and at-no-time-neglected Gilbert -White never heard of his contemporary Moses, and -never saw his beautiful illustrations of British insects, -many of which still keep their bright colours and -delicate shadings undimmed by time in his old -folios. In one of his later works, <i>An Exposition of -English Insects</i>, dated 1782, he describes and figures -some of our dragon-flies. It was the custom of this -author to give the vernacular as well as the scientific -names to his species, and in describing the virgo -he says: "These ... on account of the brilliancy -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P120"></a>120}</span> -and richness of the colouring are called kingfishers." But -he had no common name for the others, which -seemed to trouble him, and at last in desperation -after describing a certain species, he says that it is -"vulgarly called the dragon-fly"! -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Vernacular names -</span> -</p> - -<p> -I pity old Moses and I pity myself. Why should -we have so many suitable and often pretty names -for moths and butterflies, mostly small obscure -creatures, and none for the well-marked, singular-looking, -splendid dragon-flies? The reason is not far -to seek. When men in search of a hobby to occupy -their leisure time look to find it in some natural -history subject, as others find it in postage stamps -and a thousand other things, they are, like children, -first attracted by those brilliant hues which they see -in butterflies. Moreover, these insects when -preserved keep their colours, unlike dragon-flies and -some others, and look prettiest when arranged with -wings spread out in glass cases. Moths being of the -same order are included, and so we get the collector -of moths and butterflies and the lepidopterist. So -exceedingly popular is this pursuit, and the little -creatures collected so much talked and written about, -that it has been found convenient to invent English -names for them, and thus we have, in moths, -wood-tiger, leopard, goat, gipsy, ermine, wood-swift, -vapourer, drinker, tippet, lappet, puss, Kentish -glory, emperor, frosted green, satin carpet, coronet, -marbled beauty, rustic wing and rustic shoulder-knot, -golden ear, purple cloud, and numberless -others. In fact, one could not capture the obscurest -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P121"></a>121}</span> -little miller that flutters round a reading-lamp which -the lepidopterist would not be able to find a pretty -name for. -</p> - -<p> -The dragon-flies, being no man's hobby, are known -only by the old generic English names of dragons, -horse-stingers, adder-stingers, and devil's -darning-needles. Adder-stinger is one of the commonest -names in the New Forest, but it is often simply -"adder." One day while walking with a friend on -a common near Headley, we asked some boys if there -were any adders there. "Oh yes," answered a little -fellow, "you will see them by the stream flying up -and down over the water." The name does not mean -that dragon-flies sting adders, but that, like adders, -they are venomous creatures. This very common and -wide-spread notion of the insect's evil disposition and -injuriousness is due to its shape and appearance—the -great fixed eyes, bright and sinister, and the long, -snake-like, plated or scaly body which, when the -insect is seized, curls round in such a threatening -manner. The colouring, too, may have contributed -towards the evil reputation; at all events, one of our -largest species had a remarkably serpent-like aspect -due to its colour scheme—shining jet-black, banded -and slashed with wasp-yellow. This is the magnificent -<i>Cordulegaster annulatus</i>, little inferior to the -<i>Anax imperator</i> in size, and a very common species -in the southern part of the New Forest in July. But -how astonishing and almost incredible that this -singular-looking, splendid, most dragon-like of the -dragon-flies should have no English name! -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P122"></a>122}</span> -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Calopteryx virgo -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Something remains to be said of the one dragon-fly -which has got a name, or names, although these -do not appear to be known to the country people. -Mr. W. T. Lucas, in his useful monograph on the -British dragon-flies, writes enthusiastically of this -species, <i>Calopteryx virgo</i>, that it is "the most resplendent -of our dragon-flies, if not of all British insects." It -is too great praise; nevertheless the <i>virgo</i> is very -beautiful and curious, the entire insect, wings -included, being of an intense deep metallic blue, which -glistens as if the insect had been newly dipped in -its colour-bath. Unlike other dragon-flies, it flutters -on the wing like a butterfly with a weak, uncertain -flight, and, again like a butterfly, holds its blue wings -erect when at rest. It is one of the commonest as -well as the most conspicuous dragon-flies on the -Boldre, the Dark Water, and other slow and marshy -streams in the southern part of the Forest. -</p> - -<p> -In South America I was accustomed to see dragon-flies -in rushing hordes and clouds, and in masses -clinging like swarming bees to the trees; here we -see them as single insects, but I once witnessed a -beautiful effect produced by a large number of the -common turquoise-blue dragon-fly gathered at one -spot, and this was in Hampshire. I was walking, and -after passing a night at a hamlet called Buckhorn -Oak, in Alice Holt Forest, I went next morning, on -a Sunday, to the nearest church at the small village -of Rutledge. It was a very bright windy morning in -June, and the oak woods had been stripped of their -young foliage by myriads of caterpillars, so that -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P123"></a>123}</span> -the sunlight fell untempered through the seemingly -dead trees on the bracken that covered the ground -below. Now, at one spot over an area of about half -an acre, the bracken was covered with the common -turquoise-blue dragon-fly, clinging to the fronds, -their heads to the wind, their long bodies all pointing -the same way. They were nowhere close together, -but very evenly distributed, about three to six inches -apart, and the sight of the numberless slips of -gem-like blue sprinkled over the billowy, vivid green fern -was a rare and exceedingly lovely one. -</p> - -<p> -After writing of the lovely haunters of the twilight, -and that noblest one of all— -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - The great goblin moth who bears<br /> - Between his wings the ruined eyes of death,<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -and the angel butterfly, and the uncanny dragon-flies—the -flying serpents in their splendour—it may -seem a great descent to speak of such a thing as a -glow-worm, that poor grub-like, wingless, dull-coloured -crawler on the ground, as little attractive -to the eye as the centipede, or earwig, or the -wood-louse which it resembles. Nor is the glow-worm a -southern species, since it is no more abundant in -the warmest district of Hampshire than in many -other parts of the country. Nevertheless, when -treating of the Insect Notables of these parts, this -species which we call a "worm" cannot be omitted, -since it produces a loveliness surpassing that of all -other kinds. -</p> - -<p> -Here it may be remarked that all the most -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P124"></a>124}</span> -beautiful living things, from insect to man, like all the -highest productions of human genius, produce in us -a sense of the supernatural. If any reader should say -in his heart that I am wrong, that it is not so, that -he experiences no such feeling, I can but remind -him that not all men possess all human senses and -faculties. Some of us—many of us—lack this or that -sense which others have. I have even met a man who -was without the sense of humour. In the case of our -"worm," unbeautiful in itself, yet the begetter of so -great a beauty, the sense of something outside of -nature which shines on us through nature, even as -the sun shines in the stained glass of a church window, -is more distinctly felt than in the case of any other -insect in our country, because of the rarity of such a -phenomenon. It is, with us, unique; but many of -us know the winged luminous insects of other lands. -Both are beautiful, both mysterious—the winged and -the wingless; but one light differs from another in -glory even as the stars. The fire-fly is more splendid, -more surprising, in its flashes. It flashes and is dark, -and we watch, staring at the black darkness, for the -succeeding flash. It is like watching for rockets to -explode in the dark sky: there is an element of -impatience which interferes with the pleasure. To -admire and have a perfect satisfaction, the insects -must be in numbers, in multitudes, sparkling -everywhere in the darkness, so that no regard is paid -to any individual light, but they are seen as we -see snowflakes. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Glow-worm and firefly -</span> -</p> - -<p> -I fancy that Dante, in describing the appearance of -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P125"></a>125}</span> -glorified souls in heaven, unless he took it all from -Ezekiel, had the fire-fly in his mind: -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - From the bosom<br /> - Of that effulgence quivers a sharp flash,<br /> - Sudden and frequent in the guise of lightning.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Of all who have attempted to describe and -compare the two insects—fire-fly and glow-worm—Thomas -Lovell Beddoes is the best. Beddoes himself, -in those sudden brilliant letters to his friend -Kelsall, of Fareham, in this county, was a sort of -human fire-fly. In a letter to Procter, from Milan, -1824, he wrote: -</p> - -<p class="quote"> -And what else have I seen? A beautiful and far-famed insect—do -not mistake, I mean neither the Emperor, nor the King of -Sardinia, but a much finer specimen—the fire-fly. Their bright -light is evanescent, and alternates with the darkness, as if the -swift whirling of the earth struck fire out of the black atmosphere; -as if the winds were being set upon that planetary grindstone, and -gave out such momentary sparks from their edges. Their silence -is more striking than their flashes, for sudden phenomena are -almost invariably attended with some noise, but these little -jewels dart along the dark as softly as butterflies. For their -light, it is not nearly so beautiful and poetical as our still -companion of the dew, the glow-worm, with his drop of moonlight. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -I agree with Beddoes, but his pretty description -of our insect is not quite accurate, as I saw this -evening, when, after copious rain, the sky cleared -and a full moon shone on a wet, dusky-green earth. -The light of the suspended glow-worm was of an -exquisite golden green, and, side by side with it, the -moonlight on the wet surface of a polished leaf was -shining silver-white. -</p> - -<p> -The light varies greatly in power, according, I -suppose, to the degree of excitement of the insect -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P126"></a>126}</span> -and to the atmospheric conditions. Occasionally you -will discover a light at a distance shining with a -strange glory, a light which might be mistaken for a -will-o'-the-wisp, and on a close view you will probably -find that a male is on the scene, and the female, -aware of his presence though he may be at some -distance from her, invisible in the darkness, has been -wrought up to the highest state of excitement. You -will find her clinging to a stem or leaf, her luminous -part raised, and her whole body swaying in a measured -way from side to side. If the insect happens to be a -foot or two above the ground, in a tangle of bramble -and bracken, with other plants with slender stems -and deep-cut leaves, the appearance is singularly -beautiful. The light looks as if enclosed within an -invisible globe, which may be as much as fifteen -inches in diameter, and within its circle the minutest -details of the scene are clear to the vision, even to -the finest veining of the leaves, the leaves shining -a pure translucent green, while outside the mystic -globe of light all is in deep shadow and in blackness. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -The glow-worm's light -</span> -</p> - -<p> -With regard to the attitude of the glow-worm when -displaying its light, we see how ignorant of the living -creature the illustrators of natural history books -have been. In scores of works on our shelves, dating -from the eighteenth to the twentieth century, the -glow-worm is depicted giving out its light while -crawling on the ground, and in many illustrations -the male is introduced, and is shown flying down to -its mate. They drew their figures not from life, but -from specimens in a cabinet, only leaving out the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P127"></a>127}</span> -pins. But the glow-worm is not perhaps a very -well-known creature. A lady in Hampshire recently -asked me if it was a species of mole that came out -of its run to exhibit its light in the darkness. The -insect invariably climbs up, and suspends itself by -clinging to, a stem or blade or leaf, and the hinder -part of the body curls up until its under surface, the -luminous part, is uppermost, thus making the light -visible from the air above. In thick hedges I often -find the light four or even five feet above the ground. -Occasionally a glow-worm will shine from a flat -surface, usually a big leaf on to which it has crawled -when climbing. Resting horizontally on the leaf, -it curls its abdomen up and over its body after -the manner of the earwig, until the light is in -the right position. -</p> - -<p> -When we consider these facts—the way in which -the body is curved and twisted about in order (as -it seems) to exhibit the light to an insect flying -through the air above, and the increase in the light -when the sexual excitement is at its greatest—the -conclusion seems unavoidable that the light has -an important use, namely, to attract the male. -Unavoidable, I say, and yet I am not wholly convinced. -The fire-flies of diurnal habits may be seen -flying about, feeding and pairing, by day; yet when -evening comes they fly abroad again, exhibiting -their light. What the function of the light is, or of -what advantage it is to the insect, we do not know. -Again, it has seemed to me that the male of the -glow-worm, even when attracted to the female, fears the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P128"></a>128}</span> -light. Thus, when the excitement of the shining -glow-worm has caused me to look for the male, -I have found him, not indeed in but outside of the -circle of light, keeping close to its borders, moving -about on feet and wings in the dark herbage and on -the ground. I know very well that not a few -observations made by one person, but many—hundreds -if possible—by different observers, are needed before -we can say positively that the male glow-worm fears -or is repelled by the light. But some of my observations -make me think that the male of the glow-worm, -like the males of many other species in different -orders that fly by night, is drawn to the female by -the scent, and that the light is a hindrance instead -of a help, although in the end he is drawn into it. -We always find it exceedingly hard to believe that -anything in nature is without a use; but we need -not go very far—not farther than our own bodies, -to say nothing of our minds—before we are compelled -to believe that it is so. We may yet find that the -beautiful light of our still companion of the dew is -of no more use to it than the precious jewel in the -toad's head is to the toad. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Hornets -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The hornet, one of my first favourites, has, to our -minds, nothing mysterious like our glow-worm, and -nothing serpentine or supernatural about him, but he -is a nobler, more powerful and splendid creature -than any dragon-fly. I care not to look at a vulgar -wasp nor at any diurnal insect, however fine, when he -is by, or his loud, formidable buzzing hum is heard. -As he comes out of the oak-tree shade and goes -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P129"></a>129}</span> -swinging by in his shining golden-red armature, he -is like a being from some other hotter, richer land, -thousands of miles away from our cold, white cliffs -and grey seas. Speaking of that, our hornet, which -is at the head of the family and genus of true wasps -in Britain and Europe, is not only large and splendid -for a northern insect, since he is not surpassed in -lustre by any of his representatives in other parts -of the globe. -</p> - -<p> -I admire and greatly respect him, this last feeling -dating back to my experience of wasps during my -early life in South America. When a boy I was one -summer day in the dining-room at home by myself, -when in at the open door flew a grand wasp of a kind -I had never seen before, in size and form like the -hornet, but its colour was a uniform cornelian red -without any yellow. Round the room it flew with a -great noise, then dashed against a window-pane, and -I, greatly excited and fearing it would be quickly -gone if not quickly caught, flew to the window, and -dashing out my hand, like the wonderfully clever -parson-collector, I grasped it firmly by the back -with finger and thumb. Now, I had been accustomed -to seize wasps and bees of many kinds in this way -without getting stung, but this stranger was not like -other wasps, and quickly succeeded in curling his -abdomen round, and planting his long sting in the -sensitive tip of my forefinger. Never in all my -experience of stings had I suffered such pain! I dropped -my wasp like the hottest of coals, and saw him fling -himself triumphantly out of the room, and never -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P130"></a>130}</span> -again beheld one of his kind. Even now when I -stand and watch English hornets at work on their -nests, coming and going, paying no attention to me, -a memory of that hornet of a distant land returns to -my mind; and it is like a twinge, and I venture on -no liberties with <i>Vespa crabro</i>. -</p> - -<p> -The hornet is certainly not an abundant insect, -nor very generally distributed. One may spend years -in some parts of the country and never see it. I was -lately asked by friends in Kent, who have their -lonely house in a wooded and perhaps the wildest -spot in the county, if the hornet still existed in -England, or really was an English insect, as they had -not seen one in several years. Now in the woods I -frequent in the Forest I see them every day, and the -abundance of the hornet is indeed for me one of the -attractions of the place. His nests are rarely found -in old trees, but are common about habitations, in -wood-piles, and old, little-used outhouses. I have -heard farmers say in this place that they would -not hurt a hornet, but regard it as a blessing. So -it is, and so is every insect that helps to keep -down the everlasting plague of cattle-worrying and -crop-destroying flies and grubs and caterpillars. -</p> - -<p> -But I am speaking of the hornet merely as an -Insect Notable, a spot of brilliant colour in the scene, -one of the shining beings that inhabit these green -mansions. He is magnificent, and it is perhaps partly -due to his vivid and lustrous red and gold colour, his -noisy flight, and fierce hostile attitudes, and partly -to the knowledge of his angry spirit and venomous -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P131"></a>131}</span> -sting, which makes him look twice as big as he -really is. -</p> - -<p> -One of the most impressive sights in insect life is, -strange to say, in the autumn, when cold rains and -winds and early frosts have already brought to an end -all that seemed best and brightest in that fairy world. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Insects on ivy blossoms -</span> -</p> - -<p> -This is where an ancient or large ivy grows in -some well-sheltered spot on a wall or church, or on -large old trees in a wood, and flowers profusely, and -when on a warm bright day in late September or in -October all the insects which were not wholly dead -revive for a season, and are drawn by the ivy's -sweetness from all around to that one spot. There are -the late butterflies, and wasps and bees of all kinds, -and flies of all sizes and colours—green and -steel-blue, and grey and black and mottled, in thousands -and tens of thousands. They are massed on the -clustered blossoms, struggling for a place; the air -all about the ivy is swarming with them, flying -hither and thither, and the humming sound they -produce may be heard fifty yards away like a high -wind. One cannot help a feeling of melancholy at -this animated scene; but they are anything but -melancholy. Their life has been a short and a merry -one, and now that it is about to end for ever they -will end it merrily, in feasting and revelry. -</p> - -<p> -And never does the hornet look greater, the king -and tyrant of its kind, than on these occasions. It -swings down among them with a sound that may be -heard loud and distinct above the universal hum, -and settles on the flowers, but capriciously, staying -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P132"></a>132}</span> -but a moment or two in one place, then moving to -another, the meaner insects all expeditiously making -room for it. And after tasting a few flowers here and -there it takes its departure. These large-sized -October hornets are all females, wanderers from ruined -homes, in search of sheltered places where, foodless -and companionless, and in a semi-torpid condition, -each may live through the four dreary months to -come. In March the winter of their discontent will -be over, and they will come forth with the primrose -and sweet violet to be founders and mothers of new -colonies—the brave and splendid hornets of another -year; builders, fighters, and foragers in the green -oak-woods; a strenuous, hungry and thirsty people, -honey-drinkers, and devourers of the flesh of naked -white grubs, and caterpillars, black and brown and -green and gold, and barred and quaintly-coloured -swift aerial flies. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P133"></a>133}</span></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VII -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -Great and greatest among insects—Our feeling for insect -music—Crickets and grasshoppers—<i>Cicada anglica</i>—<i>Locusta -viridissima</i>—Character of its music—Colony of green -grasshoppers—Harewood Forest—Purple -emperor—Grasshoppers' musical -contests—The naturalist mocked—Female -<i>viridissima</i>—Over-elaboration in the -male—Habits of female—Wooing -of the male by the female. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -I had thought to include all or most of the -greatest of the insects known in these parts in -the last chapter, but the hornet, and the vision -it called up of that last revel in the late-blossoming -ivy on the eve of winter and cold death, seemed to -bring that part of the book to an end. The hornet -was the greatest in the sense that a strong man and -conqueror is the greatest among ourselves, as the -lion or wolf among mammals, and that feathered -thunderbolt and scourge, the peregrine falcon, among -birds. But there are great and greatest in other -senses; and just as there are singers, big and little, -as well as warriors among the "insect tribes of human -kind," so there are among these smaller men of the -mandibulate division of the class Insecta. And their -singers, when not too loud and persistent, as they -are apt to be in warmer lands than ours, are among -the most agreeable of the inhabitants of the earth. -They are less to us than to the people of the southern -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P134"></a>134}</span> -countries of Europe—infinitely less than they were -to some of the civilised nations of antiquity, and -than they are to the Japanese of to-day. This is, -I suppose, on account of their rarity with us, for -our best singers are certainly somewhat rare or else -exceedingly local. The field-cricket, which must be -passed over in this chapter to be described later on, -is an instance in point. The universal house-cricket -is known to, and in some degree loved by, all or most -persons; it is the cricket on the hearth, that warm, -bright, social spot when the world outside is dark and -cheerless; the lively, companionable sound endears -itself to the child, and later in life is dear because of -its associations. The field-grasshopper, too, is -familiar to everyone in the summer pastures; but the -best of our insect musicians, the great green -grasshopper, appears to be almost unknown to the people. -Here, for instance, where I am writing, there is one -on the table which stridulates each afternoon, and in -the evening when the lamp is lighted. The sustained -bright shrilling penetrates to all parts of the house, -and in the tap-room of the inn, two rooms away, the -villagers, coming in for their evening beer and -conversation, are startled at the unfamiliar, sharp, silvery -sound, and ask if it is a bird. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Insect music -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Probably it is owing to this rarity of our best -insect singers, and partly, too, perhaps to the -disagreeable effect on our ears of the loud cicadas heard -during our southern travels, that an idea is produced -in us of something exotic, or even fantastic, in a -taste for insect music. We wonder at the ancient -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P135"></a>135}</span> -Greeks and the modern Japanese. But it should be -borne in mind that the sounds had and have for -them an expression they cannot have for us—the -expression which comes of association. -</p> - -<p> -If the insects named as our best are rare and local, -or at all events not common, what shall we say of -our cicada? Can we call him a singer at all? or if -he be not silent, as some think, will he ever be more -to us than a figure and descriptive passage in a -book—a mere cicada of the mind? He is the most local, -or has the most limited range, of all, being seldom -found out of the New Forest district. He was -discovered there about seventy years ago, and Curtis, -who gave him the proud name of <i>Cicada anglica</i>, -expressed the opinion that he had no song. And -many others have thought so too, because they have -been unable to hear him. Others, from Kirby and -Spence to our time, have been of a contrary opinion. -So the matter stands. A. H. Swinton, in his work on -<i>Insect Variety and Propagation</i>, 1885, relates that he -tried in vain to hear <i>Cicada anglica</i> before going to -France and Italy to make a study of the cicada -music; and he writes: -</p> - -<p class="quote"> -In northern England their woodland melody has not yet fallen -on the ear of the entomologist, but it must not therefore be -inferred that these musicians are wholly absent, for among the rich -and bounteous southern fauna of Hampshire and Surrey we still -retain one outlying waif of the cigales ... <i>Cicada anglica</i>, -seemingly the <i>montana</i> of Scopoli, if not <i>Hamatodes in proprid -persona</i>. The male, usually beaten in June from blossoming -hawthorn in the New Forest, is provided with instruments of -music, and the female, more terrestrial, is often observed -wandering with a whit-ring sound among bracken wastes, where she is -thought to deposit her ova. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P136"></a>136}</span> -</p> - -<p> -It struck me some time ago that some of the -disappointed entomologists may have heard the sound -they were listening for without knowing it. In seeking -for an object—some rare little flower, let us say, -or a chipped flint, or a mushroom—we set out with -an image of it in the mind, and unless the object -sought for corresponds to its mental prototype, we -in many cases fail to recognise it, and pass on. And -it is the same with sounds. The listeners perhaps -heard a sound so unlike their idea, or image, of a -cicada's song, or so like the sound of some other -quite different insect, that they paid no attention to -it, and so missed what they sought for. At all events, -I can say that unless we have some orthopterous -insect, of a species unknown to me, which sings in -trees, then our cicada does sing, and I have heard -it. The sound which I heard, and which was new -to me, came from the upper foliage of a large thorn-tree -in the New Forest, but unfortunately it ceased -on my approach, and I failed to find the singer. The -entomologist may say that the question remains as -it was, but my experience may encourage him to try -again. Had I not been expecting to hear an insect -singing high up in the trees, I should have said at -once that this was a grasshopper's music, though -unlike that of any of the species I am accustomed -to hear. It was a sustained sound, like that of the -great green grasshopper, but not of that excessively -bright, subtle, penetrative quality: it was a lower -sound, not shrill, and distinctly slower—in other -words, the beats or drops of sound which compose -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P137"></a>137}</span> -the grasshopper's song, and run in a stream, were -more distinct and separate, giving it a trilling rather -than a reeling character. Had we, in England, -possessed a stridulating mantis, which is capable -of a slower, softer sound than any grasshopper, -I should have concluded that I was listening to one; -but there was not, in this New Forest music, the -slightest resemblance to the cicada sounds I had -heard in former years. The cicadas may be a "merry -people," and they certainly had the prettiest things -said of them by the poets of Greece, but I do not -like their brain-piercing, everlasting whirr; this sound -of the English cicada, assuming that I heard that -insect, was distinctly pleasing. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Locusta viridissima -</span> -</p> - -<p> -But more than cicada, or field-cricket, or any -other insect musician in the land, is our great green -grasshopper, or leaf-cricket, <i>Locusta viridissima</i>. I -have been accustomed to hear him in July and -August, in hedges, gardens, and potato patches at -different points along the south coast and at some -inland spots, always in the evening. It is easy, even -after dark, to find him by following up the sound, -when he may be seen moving excitedly about on -the topmost sprays or leaves, pausing at intervals -to stridulate, and occasionally taking short leaps -from spray to spray. He belongs to a family widely -distributed on the earth, and in La Plata I was -familiar with two species which in form and colour—a -uniform vivid green—were just like our <i>viridissima</i>, -but differed in size, one being smaller and the other -twice as large. The smaller species sang by day, all -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P138"></a>138}</span> -day long, among water-plants growing in the water; -the large species stridulated only by night, chiefly -in the maize fields, and was almost as loud and harsh -as the cicadas of the same region. I distinctly -remember the sounds emitted by these two species, and by -several other grasshoppers and leaf-crickets, but none -of their sounds came very near in character to that -of <i>viridissima</i>. This is a curious, and to my sense a -very beautiful sound; and when a writer describes -it as "harsh," which we not unfrequently find, I -must conclude either that one of us hears wrongly, -or not as the world hears, or that, owing to poverty, -he is unable to give a fit expression. It is a sustained -sound, a current of brightest, finest, bell-like strokes -or beats, lasting from three or four to ten or fifteen -seconds, to be renewed again and again after short -intervals; but when the musician is greatly excited, -the pauses last only for a moment—about half a -second, and the strain may go on for ten minutes or -longer before a break of any length. But the quality -is the chief thing; and here we find individual -differences, and that some have a lower, weaker -note, in which may be detected a buzz, or sibilation, -as in the field-grasshopper; but, as a rule, it is of a -shrillness and musicalness which is without parallel. -The squealings of bats, shrews, and young mice are -excessively sharp, and are aptly described as "needles -of sound," but they are not musical. The only bird -I know which has a note comparable to the <i>viridissima</i> -is the lesser whitethroat—the excessively sharp, -bright sound emitted both as an anger-note and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P139"></a>139}</span> -in that low and better song described in a former -chapter. It is this musical sharpness which pleases -in the insect, and makes it so unlike all other sounds -in a world so full of sound. Its incisiveness produces -a curious effect: sitting still and listening for some -time at a spot where several insects are stridulating, -certain nerves throb with the sound until it seems -that it is in the brain, and is like that disagreeable -condition called "ringing in the ears" made pleasant. -Almost too fine and sharp to be described as metallic, -perhaps it comes nearer to the familiar sound described -by Henley: -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - Of ice and glass the tinkle,<br /> - Pellucid, crystal-shrill.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -Crystal beads dropped in a stream down a crystal -stair would produce a sound somewhat like the -insect's song, but duller. We may, indeed, say that -this grasshopper's sounding instrument is glass; it -is a shining talc-like disc, which may be seen with -the unaided sight by raising the elytra. -</p> - -<p> -Some time ago, in glancing through some copies -of Newman's monthly <i>Entomologist</i>, 1836, I came -upon an account of a numerous colony of the great -green grasshopper, which the writer found by chance -at a spot on the Cornish coast. The effect produced -by the stridulating of a large number of these insects -was very curious. I envied the old insect-hunter his -experience. A colony of <i>viridissima</i>—what a happiness -it would be to discover such a thing! And now, -late in the summer of 1902, I have found one, and -though a very thinly populated one compared to his, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P140"></a>140}</span> -it has given me a long-coveted opportunity of watching -and listening to the little green people to my -heart's content. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Good-for-nothing grass -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The happy spot was in Harewood Forest, a dense -oak-wood covering an area of about two thousand -acres, a few miles from Andover. I had haunted it -for some days, finding little wild life to interest me -except the jays, which seemed to be the principal -inhabitants. In the middle of this forest or wood, -among the oak trees there stands a tall handsome -granite cross about thirty feet high, placed to mark -the exact spot, known as "Deadman's Plack," where -over nine centuries ago King Edgar, with his own -hand, slew his friend and favourite, Earl Athelwold. -The account which history gives of this pious monarch, -called the Peaceable, despite his volcanic disposition -where women were concerned, especially his affair -with Elfrida, who was also pious and volcanic as well -as beautiful, reads in these dull, proper times like -a tale from another hotter, fiercer world. It is not -strange that many persons find their way through -the thick forest by the narrow track to this place or -"Plack"; and there too I went on several days, and -sat by the hour and meditated. It had struck me as -a suitable spot to watch for the purple emperor; but -I saw him not, and once only I caught sight of his -bride to be—a big black-looking butterfly which rose -from the top of an oak, took a short flight, and -returned to settle once more on the highest leaves in -the same place. This vain hunt for the purple king -of the butterflies—to see him, not to "take"—led -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P141"></a>141}</span> -to the discovery of the green minstrels. Near the -cross, or "monument," as it is called, there is an -open place occupying a part of the top and a slope -of a down, as pretty a bit of wild heath as may be -found in the county. Stony and barren in places, it -is in other parts clothed in ling, purple with bloom -at this season, with a few pretty little birches and -clumps of tangled thorn and bramble scattered -about. But the feature which gives a peculiar charm -to the spot is the false brome grass which flourishes -on the slope, growing in large patches, and on the -borders of these mixing its vivid light-green tussocks -with the purple-flowered heath. It is the species -called (in books) heath false brome grass, but as -lips of man refuse to pronounce these four ponderous -monosyllables, the invention of some dreary botanist, -that follow and jolt against each other, I will venture -to rename it good-for-nothing grass. For it is useless -to the farmer, since no domestic herbivore will touch -it; its sole justification is its exceeding beauty. It -grows as high as a man's knees, or higher, and even -in the driest, hottest season keeps its wonderfully -vivid fresh green, as near a brilliant colour as any -green leaf can be; and the stalks and graceful spikes -after the flowering time are pale yellow-brown, and -have a golden lustre in the bright August and -September sunlight. Could our poetical <i>viridissima</i> have -a more suitable home! And here, coming out from -the thick oaks and sauntering about the heath I -caught the sound of his delicate shrilling, and to my -delight found myself in the midst of a colony. They -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P142"></a>142}</span> -were not abundant, and one could not experience the -sensation produced by many stridulating at a time: -they were thinly scattered over two or three acres of -ground, but at some points I could hear several of -them shrilling together at different distances, and it -was not difficult to keep two or three in sight at -one time. -</p> - -<p> -Hitherto I had known this insect as an evening -musician, beginning as a rule after sunset and -continuing till about eleven o'clock. Here he made his -music only during the daylight hours, from about -ten or eleven in the morning until five or six o'clock -in the afternoon, becoming silent at noon when it -was hot. But it was late in the season when I found -him, on 26th August, and after much rain the weather -had become exceptionally cool for the time of year. -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-143"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-143.jpg" alt="RIVAL GREAT GREEN GRASSHOPPERS" /> -<br /> -RIVAL GREAT GREEN GRASSHOPPERS -</p> - -<p> -When stridulating it appeared to be the ambition -of every male grasshopper to get up as high as he -could climb on the stiff blades and thin stalks of the -grass; and there, very conspicuous in his uniform -green colour which in a strong sunlight looked like -the green of verdigris, his translucent overwings -glistening like a dragon-fly's wings, he would shrill -and make the grass to which he was clinging tremble -to his rapidly vibrating body. Then he would listen -to the shrill response of some other singer not far -off, and then sing and listen again, and yet again; -then all at once in a determined manner he would -set out to find his rival, travelling high up through -the grass, climbing stems and blades until they -bent enough for him to grasp others and push on, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P144"></a>144}</span> -reminding one of a squirrel progressing through the -thin highest branches of a hazel copse. After covering -the distance in this manner, with a few short pauses -by the way to shrill back an answering challenge, he -would find a suitable place near to the other, still -in his place high up in the grass; and then the two, -a foot or so, sometimes three or four inches, apart, -would begin a regular duel in sound at short range. -Each takes his turn, and when one sings the other -raises one of his forelegs to listen; one may say that -in lifting a leg he "cocks an ear." The attitude of -the insects is admirably given in the accompanying -drawing from life. This contest usually ends in a real -fight: one advances, and when at a distance of five or -six inches makes a leap at his adversary, and the other, -prepared for what is coming and in position, leaps too -at the same time, so that they meet midway, and -strike each other with their long spiny hind legs. -It is done so quickly that the movements cannot -be followed by the eye, but that they do hit hard is -plain, as in many cases one is knocked down or flung -to some distance away. Thus ends the round; the -beaten one rushes off as quickly as he can, as if hurt, -but soon pulls up, and lowering his head, begins -defiantly stridulating as before. The other follows -him up, shrills at and attacks him again; and you -may see a dozen or twenty such encounters between -the same two in the course of half an hour. -Occasionally when the blow is struck they grasp each -other and fall together; and it is hardly to be doubted -that they not only kick, like French wrestlers and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P145"></a>145}</span> -bald-headed coots, but also make wicked use of their -powerful black teeth. Some of the fighters I examined -had lost a portion of one of the forelegs—one had -lost portions of two—and these had evidently been -bitten off. Perhaps they inflict even worse injuries. -Hearing two shrilling against each other at a spot -where there was a large clump of heath between -them, I dropped down close by to listen and watch, -when I discovered a third grasshopper sitting -mid-way between the others in the centre of the -heath-bush. This one appeared more excited than the -others, keeping his wings violently agitated almost -without a pause, and yet not the faintest sound -proceeded from him. It proved on examination that -one of his stiff overwings had been bitten or torn off -at the base, so that he had but half of his sounding -apparatus left, and no music could his most passionate -efforts ever draw from it, and, silent, he was -no more in the world of green grasshoppers than a -bird with a broken wing in the world of birds. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Singing-contests -</span> -</p> - -<p> -For it cannot be doubted that his own music is -the greatest, the one all-absorbing motive and passion -of his little soul. This may seem to be saying too -much—to attribute something of human feelings to a -creature so immeasurably far removed from us. -Fantastic in shape, even among beings invertebrate and -unhuman, one that indeed sees with opal eyes set -in his green goat-like mask, but who hears with his -forelegs, breathes through spiracles set in his sides, -whipping the air for other sense-impressions and -unimaginable sorts of knowledge with his excessively -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P146"></a>146}</span> -long limber horns, or antennę, just as a dry-fly fisher -whips the crystal stream for speckled trout; and, -finally, who wears his musical apparatus (his vocal -organs) like an electric shield or plaster on the small -of his back. Nevertheless it is impossible to watch -their actions without regarding them as creatures -of like passions with ourselves. The resemblance is -most striking when we think not of what we, hard -Saxons, are in this cold north, but of the more fiery, -music-loving races in warmer countries. I remember -in my early years, before the advent of "Progress" -in those outlying realms, that the ancient singing -contests still flourished among the gauchos of La -Plata. They were all lovers of their own peculiar -kind of music, singing endless <i>decimas</i> and <i>coplas</i> in -high-pitched nasal tones to the strum-strumming of -a guitar; and when any singer of a livelier mind -than his fellows had the faculty of improvising, his -fame went forth, and the others of his quality were -filled with emulation, and journeyed long distances -over the lonely plains to meet and sing against him. -How curiously is this like our island grasshoppers, -who have come to us unchanged from the past, and -are neither Saxons nor Celts, but true, original, -ancient Britons—the little grass-green people with -passionate souls! You can almost hear him say—this -little green minstrel you have been watching -when his shrill note has brought back as shrill an -answer—as he resolutely sets out over the tall, -bending grasses in the direction of the sound, -"I'll teach him to sing!" -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P147"></a>147}</span> -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A human parallel -</span> -</p> - -<p> -So interested was I in watching them, so delighted -to be in this society, whose members, for all their -shape, no longer moved about in, to me, unimaginable -worlds, that I went day after day and spent long -hours with them. I could best watch their battles -by getting down on my knees in the good-for-nothing -("heath false brome") grass, so as to bring my eyes -within two or three feet of them. My attitude, -kneeling with bowed head by the half-hour at a -stretch, one day attracted the attention of some -persons who had come in a carriage to picnic under -the trees at the foot of the slope, four or five hundred -yards away. There were from time to time little -explosions of laughter, and at last a young lady of -twelve or fourteen cried, or piped out, in a clear, -far-reaching voice, "Holy man!" She was an -impudent monkey. -</p> - -<p> -So far not a word has been said of the female, -simply because, as it seemed to me, there was, so -far, nothing to say. In most insects the odour -excites and draws the males, often from long -distances, as we see in the moths; they fly to, and -find, and see her, and woo, and chase, and fight with -each other for possession of her; and when there are -beautiful or fantastic movements, sometimes accompanied -with sounds, corresponding to the antics of -birds—I have observed them in species of Asilidę -and other insects—they are directly caused by the -presence of the female. But with <i>viridissima</i> it -appears not to be so, since they do not seek the -female, nor will they notice her when she comes in -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P148"></a>148}</span> -their way, but they are wholly absorbed in their -own music, and in trying to outsing the others, or, -failing in this, to kick and bite them into silence. -</p> - -<p> -Now, seeing this strange condition of things among -these insects—seeing it day after day for weeks—the -conclusion forced itself upon my mind that we have -here one of those strange cases among the lower -creatures which are not uncommon in human life—the -case of a faculty, a means to an end, being developed -and refined to an excessive degree, and the -reflex effect of this too great refinement on the -species, or race. Comparing it then to certain human -matters—to Art, let us say—we see that that which -was but a means has become an end, and is pursued -for its own sake. -</p> - -<p> -Such a conclusion may seem absurd, and perhaps -it is, since we cannot know what "nimble emanations" -and vibrations, which touch not our coarser -natures, there may be to link these diverse and -seemingly ill-fitting actions into one perfect chain. -It may be said, for instance, that in this species the -incessant stridulating of the male has an action -similar to that of the sun's light and heat on plant -life, causing the flower to blow and its sexual organs -to ripen. But we see, too, that Nature does often -overshoot her mark. We have seen it, I think, in -the over-refinement of the passion and faculty of -fear in certain species, in reference to cases of -fascination, and we see it in the over-protected and the -over-specialised; but we are so imbued with the idea -that the right mean has always been hit upon and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P149"></a>149}</span> -adhered to, that it is only in view of the most flagrant -cases to the contrary that we are ever startled out -of that delusion. The miserable case, for example, -of the <i>Polyergus rufescens</i>, the slave-making ant, who, -from being too much waited upon, has so entirely -lost the power of waiting upon himself that he will -perish of hunger amidst plenty if his slaves be not -there to pick up and put the food into his mouth. -These extreme cases are not the only ones; for every -one of such a character there are hundreds of cases. -"Degeneration," as Ray Lankester has aptly said, -"goes hand in hand with elaboration"; and I would -add that in numberless cases over-elaboration is the -cause of degeneration. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -The female viridissima -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The female is the grander insect, being nearly a -third larger than the male, of a fuller figure, and -adorned with a long, broadsword-shaped ovipositor, -which projects beyond her wings like a tail. She -has rather a grand air too, and is both silent and -inactive. Hers is a life of listening and waiting; -and the waiting is long—days and weeks go by, and -the males stridulate, and fight, and pay no attention -to her. But how patient she can be may be seen -in the case of one which I took from her heath and -placed on a well-berried branch of wild guelder on -my table. There she was contented to rest, usually -on one of the topmost clusters, for many days, -almost always with the window open at the side of -her branch, so that she could easily have made her -escape. The wind blew in upon her, and outside the -world was green and lit with sunshine. One could -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P150"></a>150}</span> -almost fancy that she was conscious of her fine -appearance in her pale vivid green colour, touched -in certain lights with glaucous blue, on her throne -of clustered carbuncles. At intervals of an hour or -two she would move about a little, and find some -other perch; only the waving of her long, fine -antennę appeared to show that she was alive to -much that was going on about her—in her world. -The one thing that excited her was the stridulating -of one of the males confined in a glass vessel on -the same table. She would then travel over her -branch to get as near as possible to the musician, -and would remain motionless, even to the nervous -antennę, and apparently absorbed in the sound for -as long as it lasted. At first she ate a few of the -crimson berries on her branch, and also took a little -parsley and shepherd's purse, but later on she -declined all green stuff, and fed on jam, honey, -cooked sultanas, and bread-and-butter pudding, -which she liked best. Water and ginger-beer for -drink. This most placid and dignified lady—we -had got into calling her "Lady Greensleeves," and -"Queen," and sometimes "The Cow"—was restored, -on 12th September, in good health, after sixteen days, -to her native heath, and disappeared from sight in -the long grass, quietly making her way to some spot -where she could settle down comfortably to listen to -the music. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Habits of female -</span> -</p> - -<p> -All the females I found and watched behaved as -my captive had done. They were no more active, -and preferred to be at a good height above the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P151"></a>151}</span> -ground—eighteen inches or two feet—when quietly -listening. One day I watched one perched on the -topmost spray of a heath-bush in her listening -attitude: clouds came over the sun, and the wind -grew colder and stronger, and the singers ceased -singing. And at last, finding that the silence -continued, and doubtless feeling uncomfortable on that -spray where the wind blew on and swayed her about, -she slowly climbed down and settled herself in a -horizontal position on the sheltered side of the plant; -and when the sun broke out and shone on her she -tipped over on one side, stretched her hind legs out, -and rested motionless in that position, exactly like -a fowl lying in her dusting-place luxuriating in -the heat. -</p> - -<p> -But at last, despite that air of repose which is her -chief characteristic, she is so wrought upon by that -perpetual, shrill, irresistible music that she can no -longer endure to sit still, but is drawn to it. She -goes to her charmers, one may say, to remind them -by her presence that the minstrelsy in which they -are so absorbed is not itself an end but a means. -Brisk or lively she cannot be, but it is plain that when -she follows up or settles herself down near her -forgetful knights, she is greatly excited, and waiting -to be taken in marriage. That she distinguishes one -singer above others, or exercises "selection" in the -Darwinian sense, seems unlikely: it strikes one, on -the contrary, that having so long suffered neglect -she is only too willing to be claimed by any one of -them. And this is just what they decline to -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P152"></a>152}</span> -do—for some time, at any rate. Again and again I have -observed when the female had followed and placed -herself close to a couple of these rival musicians, -that they took not the least notice of her; and that -when, in the course of the alarums and excursions, -one of them found himself close to her, the sight of -her appeared to disconcert him, and he made all -haste to get away from her. It looked to human -eyes as if her large portly figure had not corresponded -to his ideal, and had even moved him to repugnance. -But the Ann of Cleves in a green gown is an exceedingly -patient person, and very persistent, and though -often denied, she will not be denied, or take No for -an answer. But it is altogether a curious business, -for not only is the wooing process reversed, as many -think it is in the cuckoo, but it lasts an -unconscionable time in a creature whose life, in the -perfect stage, is limited to a season. But the -female <i>viridissima</i> has not the power and swiftness -of that feathered lady who boldly pursues her singer -(in love with nothing but his own voice), and -compels him to take her. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P153"></a>153}</span></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VIII -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -Hampshire, north and south—A spot abounding in -life—Lyndhurst—A white spider—Wooing spider's antics—A New -Forest little boy—Blonde gipsies—The boy and the spider—A -distant world of spiders—Selborne and its visitors—Selborne -revisited—An owl at Alton—A wagtail at the -Wakes—The cockerel and the martin—Heat at Selborne—House -crickets—Gilbert White on crickets—A colony of -field-crickets—Water plants—Musk mallow—Cirl buntings -at Selborne—Evening gatherings of swifts at -Selborne—Locustidę—<i>Thamnotrizon cinereus</i>—English names -wanted—Black grasshopper's habits and disposition—Its abundance -at Selborne. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -In the last chapter I got away—succeeded in -breaking away, would perhaps be a better -expression—from that favourite hunting-ground of -mine farther south; and the reader would perhaps -care to know why a book descriptive of days in -Hampshire should be so much taken up with days -in one small corner of the county. Hampshire is not -a very large county compared with some others: I -have traversed it in this and in that direction often -enough to be pretty familiar with a great deal of it, -from the walled-round cornfield which was once -Roman Calleva to the Solent; and from the beautiful -wild Rother on the Sussex border to the Avon -in the west. There is much to see and know within -these limits: for all those whose proper study is man, -his history and his works; and for the archęologist -and for the artist and seekers after the picturesque, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P154"></a>154}</span> -there is much—nay, there is more to attract in the -northern than in the southern half of the county. -I, not of them, go south, and by preference to -one spot, because my chief interest and delight is -in life—life in all its forms, from man who "walks -erect and smiling looks on heaven" to the minutest -organic atoms—the invisible life. It here comes -into my mind that the very smell of the earth, in -which we all delight, the smell which fills the air -after rain in summer, and is strong when we turn -up a spadeful of fresh mould, which the rustic calls -"good," believing, perhaps rightly, that we must -smell it every day to be well and live long, is after -all an odour given off by a living thing—<i>Cladothrix -odorifera</i>. Too small for human eyes, which see only -objects proportioned to their bigness, so minute, -indeed, that millions may inhabit a clod no larger -than one's watch, yet they are able to find a passage -to us through the other subtler sense; and from the -beginning of our earthly journey even to its end we -walk with this odour in our nostrils, and love it, and -will perhaps take with us a sweet memory of it into -the after-life. -</p> - -<p> -Life being more than all else to me, I am drawn -to the spot where it exists in greatest abundance -and variety. -</p> - -<p> -I remember feeling this passion very strongly one -day during this summer of 1902 after looking at a -spider. It was an interesting spider, and I found it -within a couple of miles of Lyndhurst, of all places; -a spot so disagreeable to me that I avoid it, and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P155"></a>155}</span> -look for nothing and wish for nothing to detain me -in its vicinity. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Lyndhurst -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Lyndhurst is objectionable to me not only because -it is a vulgar suburb, a transcript of Chiswick or -Plumstead in the New Forest where it is in a wrong -atmosphere, but also because it is the spot on which -London vomits out its annual crowd of collectors, -who fill its numerous and ever-increasing brand-new -red-brick lodging-houses, and who swarm through -all the adjacent woods and heaths, men, women, and -children (hateful little prigs!) with their vasculums, -beer and treacle pots, green and blue butterfly nets, -killing bottles, and all the detestable paraphernalia -of what they would probably call "Nature Study." -</p> - -<p> -It happened that one day, a mile or two from -Lyndhurst, going along the road I caught sight of -a pretty bit of heath through an opening in the -wood, and turning into it I looked out a spot to rest -in, and was just about to cast myself down when -I noticed a small white spider, disturbed by my -step, drop from a cluster of bell-heath flowers to -the ground. I stood still, and presently the spider, -recovered from its alarm, drew itself up again by -an invisible thread and settled down on the -bright-coloured blossoms. Seating myself close by, I began -to watch the strangely shaped and coloured little -creature. It was a <i>Thomisus</i>—a genus of spiders -distinguished by the extraordinary length of the two -pairs of forelegs. The one before me, <i>Thomisus -citreus</i>, is also singular on account of its colour—pale -citron or white—and its habit of sitting on flowers. -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P156"></a>156}</span> -This habit and the colour, we may see, are related. -The <i>citreus</i> is not a weaver of snares, but hunts for -its prey, or rather lies in wait to capture any insect -that comes to the flower on which it sits. On white, -yellow, and indeed on most pale-coloured flowers, -it almost becomes invisible. On the brilliant red -bell-heath blossom it showed plainly enough, but -even here it did not look nearly so conspicuous as -when on a green leaf. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Wooing spider's antics -</span> -</p> - -<p> -I had observed this white spider before, but had -always seen it sitting motionless in its flower; this -one was curiously restless, and very soon after I had -settled myself down by its side it began to throw -itself into a variety of strange attitudes. The four -long forelegs would go up all at once and stand out -like rays from the round, white body, and by-and-by -they would drop and hang down like two long strings -from the flower. Pretty soon I discovered the cause -of these actions in the presence of a second spider, -less than half the size of the first, moving about close -by. His smallness and hideling habits had prevented -me from seeing him sooner. This small, active, white -creature was the male, and though moving constantly -about in the heath at a distance of half a foot from -her, it was plain that they could see each other and -also understand each other very well. As he moved -round her, passing by means of the threads he kept -throwing out from spray to spray, she moved round -on her flower to keep him in sight; but though -fascinated and drawn to her, he still dreaded, and was -pulled by his fear and his desire in opposite ways. -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P157"></a>157}</span> -The excitement of both would increase whenever he -came a little nearer, and their attitudes were then -sometimes very curious, the most singular being one -of the male when he would raise his body vertically -in the air and stand on his two pairs of forelegs. -When very near, they would extend the long forelegs -and touch one another; but always at this point -when they were closest and the excitement greatest -a panic would seize him, and he would make haste -to get to a safer distance. On two such occasions -she, as if afraid to lose him altogether, quitted her -beloved flower and moved after him, and after -wandering about for some time to no purpose, found -another flower-cluster to settle on. And so the queer -wooing went on, and seemed no nearer to a conclusion, -when, to my surprise, I found that I had been -sitting and lying there, with eyes close to the female -spider, for an hour and a half. Once only, feeling a -little bored, I gently stroked her on the back, which -appeared to please her as much as if she had been a -pig and I had scratched her back with my walking-stick. -But no sooner had the soothing effect passed -off than she began again watching the movements of -that fantastic little lover of hers, who loved her for -her beautiful white body, but feared her on account -of those poison fangs which he could probably see -every time she smiled to encourage him. At the -end of my long watch the conclusion of the whole -complex business seemed farther off than ever: fear -had got the mastery, and the male had put so -great a distance between them, and moved now -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P158"></a>158}</span> -so languidly, that it seemed useless to remain -any longer. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A little forest boy -</span> -</p> - -<p> -I had not been watching alone all this time: when -I had been about half an hour on the spot I had a -visitor, a small miserable-looking New Forest boy; -he came walking towards me with a little crooked -stick in his hand, and asked me in a low, husky -voice if I had seen a pony in that part of the Forest. -I told him sharply not to come too near as his steps -would disturb a spider I was watching. It did not -seem to surprise him that I was there by myself -watching a spider, but creeping up he subsided -gently on the heath by my side and began watching -with me. At intervals when there was a lull in the -excitement of the spiders I could spare time for a -glance at my poor little companion. He was probably -eleven or twelve years old, but his stature was that -of a boy of eight—a small, stunted creature, meanly -dressed, with light-coloured lustreless hair, pale-blue -eyes, and a weary sad expression on his pale face. -Yet he called himself a gipsy! But the south of -England gipsies are a mixed and degenerate lot. They -are now so incessantly harried by the authorities -that the best of them settle down in the villages, -while those who keep to the old ways and vagrant -open-air life are joined by tramps and wastrels of -every shade of colour. This little fellow had little or -no Romany blood in his watery veins. -</p> - -<p> -He told me that his people were camping not far -off, and that the party consisted of his parents with -six (the half-dozen youngest) of their thirteen children. -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P159"></a>159}</span> -They had a pony and trap; but the pony had -got away during the night, and the father and two -or three of the children were out looking for it in -different directions. We talked a little at intervals, -and I found him curiously ignorant concerning the -wild life of the Forest. He assured me that he had -never seen the cuckoo, but he had heard of its -singular habits, and was anxious to know how big -a bird it was, also its colour. In some trees near us -a wood-wren was uttering its sorrowful little wailing -note of anxiety, and when I asked him what bird it -was, he answered "a sparrer." Nevertheless he seemed -to feel a dim sort of interest in the spiders we were -watching, and at length our intermittent conversation -ceased altogether. When at last, after a long -silence, I spoke, he did not answer, and glancing -round I found that he had gone to sleep. Lying -there with eyes closed, his pale face on the bright -green turf, he looked almost corpse-like. Even his -lips were colourless. Getting up, I placed a penny -piece on the turf beside his little crooked stick, so -that on awaking he should have a gleam of happiness -in his poor little soul, and went softly away. But he -was sleeping very soundly, for when after going a -couple of hundred yards I looked back he was still -lying motionless on the same spot. -</p> - -<p> -But when I looked back, and when, regaining the -road, I went on my way, and indeed for long hours -after, I saw the boy vaguely, almost like a boy of -mist, and was hardly able to recall his features, so -faintly had he impressed me; while the spider on -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P160"></a>160}</span> -her flower, and the small male that wooed and won -her many times yet never ventured to take her, -were stamped so vividly on my brain, that even if -I had wished it I could not have got rid of that -persistent image. It made me miserable to think -that I had left, thousands of miles away, a world -of spiders exceeding in size, variety of shape and -beauty and richness of colouring those I found -here—surpassing them, too, in the marvellousness of -their habits and that ferocity of disposition which -is without a parallel in nature. I wished I could -drop this burden of years so as to go back to them, -to spend half a lifetime in finding out some of their -fascinating secrets. Finally, I envied those who in -future years will grow up in that green continent, -with this passion in their hearts, and have the -happiness which I had missed. -</p> - -<p> -I, of course, knew that it was but the too vivid -and persistent image of that particular creature on -which my attention had been fixed which made me -regard spiders generally as the most interesting beings -in nature—the proper study of mankind, in fact. -But it is always so; any new aspect, form, or -manifestation of the principle of life, at the moment it -comes before the vision and the mind, is, to one -who is not a specialist, attractive beyond all others. -</p> - -<p> -But, after all is said and done, I have as a fact -spent many of my Hampshire days at a distance -from the spots I love best, and my subject in this -chapter will be of my sojourn in that eastern corner -of the county, in the village and parish which all -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P161"></a>161}</span> -naturalists love, and which many of them know -so well. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Visitors to Selborne -</span> -</p> - -<p> -It is told in the books that some seventy or eighty -years ago an adventurous naturalist journeyed down -from London by rough ways to the remote village of -Selborne, to see it with his own eyes and describe its -condition to the world. The way is not long nor -rough in these times, and on every summer day, -almost at every hour of the day, strangers from all -parts of the country, with not a few from foreign -lands, may be seen in the old village street. Of -these visitors that come like shadows, so depart, -nine in every ten, or possibly nineteen in every -twenty, have no real interest in Gilbert White and -his work and the village he lived in, but are members -of that innumerable tribe of gadders about the land -who religiously visit every spot which they are told -should be seen. -</p> - -<p> -One morning, while staying at the village, in July -1901, I went at six o'clock for a stroll on the common, -and, on going up to the Hanger, noticed a couple of -bicycles lying at the foot of the hill; then, half-way -up I found the cyclists—two young ladies—resting -on the turf by the side of the Zigzag. They were -conversing together as I went by, and one having -asked some question which I did not hear, the other -replied, "Oh no! he lived a very long time ago, and -wrote a history of Selborne. About birds and -that." To which the other returned, "Oh!" and then they -talked of something else. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P162"></a>162}</span> -</p> - -<p> -These ladies had probably got up at four o'clock -that morning, and ridden several miles to visit the -village and go up the Hanger before breakfast. Later -in the day they would be at other places where other -Hampshire celebrities, big and little, had been born, or -had lived or died—Wootton St. Lawrence, Chawton, -Steventon, Alresford, Basing, Otterbourne, Buriton, -Boldre, and a dozen more; and one, the informed, -would say to her uninformed companion, "Oh dear, -no; he, or she, lived a long, long time ago, somewhere -about the eighteenth century—or perhaps it was the -sixteenth—and did something, or wrote fiction, or -history, or philosophy, and that." To which the -other would intelligently answer, "Oh!" and then -they would remount their bicycles, and go on to -some other place. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Selborne revisited -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Although a large majority of the visitors are of -this description, there are others of a different -kind—the true pilgrims; and these are mostly naturalists -who have been familiar from boyhood with the -famous Letters, who love the memory of Gilbert -White, and regard the spot where he was born, to -which he was so deeply attached, where his ashes -lie, as almost a sacred place. It is but natural that -some of these, who are the true and only Selbornians, -albeit they may not call themselves by a name which -has been filched from them, should have given an -account of a first visit, their impression of a spot -familiar in description but never realised until seen, -and of its effect on the mind. But no one, so far as -I know, has told of a second or of any subsequent -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P163"></a>163}</span> -visit. There is a good reason for this, for though -the place is in itself beautiful and never loses its -charm, it is impossible for anyone to recover the -feeling experienced on a first sight. If I, unlike -others, write of Selborne revisited, it is not because -there is anything fresh to say of an old, vanished -emotion, a feeling which forms a singular and delightful -experience in the life of many a naturalist, and is -thereafter a pleasing memory but nothing more. -</p> - -<p> -Selborne is now to me like any other pleasant rural -place: in the village street, in the churchyard, by -the Lyth and the Bourne, on the Hanger and the -Common, I feel that I am -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - In a green and undiscovered ground;<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -the feeling that the naturalist must or should always -experience in all places where nature is, even as -Coventry Patmore experienced it in the presence of -women. He had paid more than ordinary attention -to their ways, and knew that there was yet much -to learn. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -An owl at Alton -</span> -</p> - -<p> -How irrecoverable the first feeling is—a feeling -which may be almost like the sense of an unseen -presence, as I have described it in an account of -my first visit to Selborne in the concluding chapter -in a book on <i>Birds and Man</i>—was impressed upon -me on the occasion of a second visit two or three -years later. There was then no return of the -feeling—no faintest trace of it. The village was like -any other, only more interesting because of several -amusing incidents in bird-life which I by chance -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P164"></a>164}</span> -witnessed when there. Animals in a state of nature -do not often move us to mirth, but on this occasion -I was made to laugh several times. At first it was -at an owl at Alton. I arrived there in the evening -of a wet, rough day in May 1898, too late to walk -the five miles that remained to my destination. -After securing a room at the hotel, I hurried out to -look at the fine old church, which Gilbert White -admired in his day; but it was growing dark, so that -there was nothing for me but to stand in the wind -and rain in the wet churchyard, and get a general -idea of the outline of the building, with its handsome, -shingled spire standing tall against the wild, gloomy -sky. By-and-by a vague figure appeared out of the -clouds, travelling against the wind towards the -spire, and looking more like a ragged piece of -newspaper whirled about the heavens than any living -thing. It was a white owl, and after watching him -for some time I came to the conclusion that he was -trying to get to the vane on the spire. A very idle -ambition it seemed, for although he succeeded again -and again in getting to within a few yards of the -point aimed at, he was on each occasion struck by -a fresh violent gust and driven back to a great -distance, often quite out of sight in the gloom. -But presently he would reappear, still striving to -reach the vane. A crazy bird! but I could not -help admiring his pluck, and greatly wondered what -his secret motive in aiming at that windy perch -could be. And at last, after so many defeats, he -succeeded in grasping the metal cross-bar with his -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P165"></a>165}</span> -crooked talons. The wind, with all its fury, could -not tear him from it, and after a little flapping he -was able to pull himself up; then, bending down, -he deliberately wiped his beak on the bar and flew -away! This, then, had been his powerful, mysterious -motive—just to wipe his beak, which he could very -well have wiped on any branch or barn-roof or fence, -and saved himself that tremendous labour! -</p> - -<p> -It was an extreme instance of the tyrannous effect -of habit on a wild animal. Doubtless this bird had -been accustomed, after devouring his first mouse, to -fly to the vane, where he could rest for a few minutes, -taking a general view of the place, and wipe his -beak at the same time; and the habit had become -so strong that he could not forgo his visit even on -so tempestuous an evening. His beak, if he had -wiped it anywhere but on that lofty cross-bar, would -not have seemed quite clean. -</p> - -<p> -At Selborne, in the garden at the Wakes, I noticed -a pair of pied wagtails busy nest-building in the ivy -on the wall. One of the birds flew up to the roof of -the house, where, I suppose, he caught sight of a fly -in an upper window which looked on to the roof, for -all at once he rose up and dashed against the pane -with great force; and as the glass pane hit back with -equal force, he was thrown on to the tiles under the -window. Nothing daunted, he got up and dashed -against the glass a second time, with the same result. -The action was repeated five times, then the poor -baffled bird withdrew from the contest, and, drawing -in his head, sat hunched up for two or three minutes -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P166"></a>166}</span> -perfectly motionless. The volatile creature would -not have sat there so quietly if he had not hurt -himself rather badly. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Cockerel and martin -</span> -</p> - -<p> -One more of the amusing incidents witnessed during -my visit must be told. Several pairs of martins were -making their nests under the eaves of a cottage -opposite to the Queen's Arms, where I stayed; and -on going out about seven o'clock in the morning, I -stood to watch some of the birds getting mud at a -pool which had been made by the night's rain in the -middle of the street. It happened that some fowls -had come out of the inn yard, and were walking or -standing near the puddle picking up gravel or any -small morsel they could find. Among them was a -cockerel, a big, ungainly, yellowish Cochin, in the -hobbledehoy stage of that ugliest and most ungraceful -variety. For some time this bird stood idly by -the pool, but by-and-by the movements of the -martins coming and going between the cottage and -the puddle attracted his attention, and he began to -watch them with a strange interest; and then all -at once he made a vicious peck at one occupied in -deftly gathering a pellet of clay close to his great, -feathered feet. The martin flitted lightly away, and -after a turn or two, dropped down again at almost -the same spot. The fowl had watched it, and as soon -as it came down moved a step or two nearer to it -with deliberation, then made a violent dash and peck -at it, and was no nearer to hitting it than before. -The same thing occurred again and again, the martin -growing shyer after each attack; then other martins -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P167"></a>167}</span> -came, and he, finding them less cautious than the -first, stalked them in turn and made futile attacks -on them. Convinced at last that it was not possible -for him to injure or touch these elusive little -creatures, he determined that they should gather no -mud at that place, and with head up he watched -them circling like great flies around him, dashing -savagely at them whenever they came lower, or -paused in their flight, or dropped lightly down on -the margin. It was a curious and amusing spectacle—the -big, shapeless, lumbering bird chasing them -round and round the pool in his stupid spite; they -by contrast so beautiful in their shining purple -mantle, snow-white breast, and stockinged feet, their -fairy-like aerial bodies that responded so quickly -to every motion of their bright, lively, little minds. -It was like a very heavy policeman "moving on" -a flock of fairies. -</p> - -<p> -One remembers Ęsop's dog in the manger, and -thinks that this and many of the apologues are really -nothing but everyday incidents in animal life, told -just as they happened, with the addition of speech -(in some cases quite unnecessary) put in the mouth -of the various actors. Ęsop's dog did not want to -be disturbed in his bed of hay, and was not such an -unredeemed curmudgeon as the Selborne fowl; but -this unlovely temper or feeling—spite and petty -tyranny and persecution—is exceedingly common in -the lower animals, from the higher vertebrates down -even to the insects. -</p> - -<p> -My third visit to Selborne was in July 1901. I -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P168"></a>168}</span> -went there on the 12th and stayed till the 23rd. Now -July, when the business of breeding is over or far -advanced and all the best songsters are dropping -into silence, and when the foliage is deepening to a -uniform monotonous dark green, is, next to August, -the least interesting month of the year. But at -Selborne I was singularly fortunate, although the -season was excessively dry and hot. The heat was -indeed great all over the country, but I doubt if -there exists a warmer village than Selborne, unless -it be one in some, to me unknown, coombe in Cornwall -or Devon. Thus on 19th July, when the temperature -rose to ninety degrees in the shade in the City -of London, we had it as high as ninety-four degrees -in Selborne. The village lies in a kind of trough at -the foot of a wall-like hill. If it were not for the -moisture and the greenery that surrounds and almost -covers it, hanging, as it were, like a cloud above it, -the heat would doubtless have been even greater. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Crickets -</span> -</p> - -<p> -These conditions, in whatever way they may affect -the human inhabitants, appear to be exceedingly -favourable to the house-crickets. It was impossible -for anyone to walk in the village of an evening -without noticing the noise they made. The cottages -on both sides of the street seemed to be alive with -them, so that, walking, one was assailed by their -shrilling in both ears. Hearing them so much sent -me in search of their wild cousin of the fields and -of the mole-cricket, but no sound of them could I -hear. It was too late for them to sing. No doubt—as -White conjectured—the artificial conditions which -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P169"></a>169}</span> -civilised man has made for the house-cricket have -considerably altered its habits. Like the canary and -other finches that thrive in captivity, a uniform -indoor climate, with food easily found, have made -it a singer all the year round. I trust we shall never -take to the Japanese custom of caging insects for -the sake of their music; but it is probable that a -result of keeping tamed or domesticated field-crickets -would be to set them singing at all seasons against -the cricket on the hearth. A listener would then -be able to judge which of the two "sweet and tiny -cousins" is the better performer. The house-cricket -has to my ears a louder, coarser, a more creaky -sound; but we hear him, as a rule, in a room, singing, -as it were, confined in a big box; and I remember -the case of the skylark, and the disagreeable effect -of its shrill and harsh spluttering song when heard -from a cage hanging against a wall. The field-cricket, -like the soaring skylark, has the wide expanse of -open air to soften and etherealise the sound. -</p> - -<p> -Gilbert White lived in an age which had its own -little, firmly-established, conventional ideas about -nature, which he, open-air man though he was, did -not escape, or else felt bound to respect. Thus, the -prolonged, wild, beautiful call of the peacock, the -finest sound made by any domesticated creature, -was to the convention of the day "disgustful," and -as a disgustful sound he sets it down accordingly; -and when he speaks of the keen pleasure it gave -him to listen to the field-cricket, he writes in a -somewhat apologetic strain: -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P170"></a>170}</span> -</p> - -<p class="quote"> -Sounds do not always give us pleasure according to their -sweetness and melody, nor do harsh sounds always displease. -We are more apt to be captivated or disgusted with the associations -which they promote than with the notes themselves. Thus -the shrilling of the field-cricket, though sharp and stridulous, -yet marvellously delights some hearers, filling their minds with -a train of summer ideas of everything that is rural, verdurous, -and joyous. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The delight I know, but I cannot wholly agree -with the explanation. A couple of months before -this visit to Selborne, on 25th May, on passing -some small grass-fields, enclosed in high, untrimmed -hedges, on the border of a pine wood near Hythe, -by Southampton Water, I all at once became -conscious of a sound, which indeed had been for some -considerable time in my ears, increasing in volume as -I went on until it forced my attention to it. When -I listened, I found myself in a place where -field-crickets were in extraordinary abundance; there -must have been many hundreds within hearing -distance, and their delicate shrilling came from the -grass and hedges all round me. It was as if all -the field-crickets in the county had congregated and -were holding a grand musical festival at that spot. -A dozen or twenty house-crickets in a kitchen would -have made more noise; this was not loud, nor could -it properly be described as a noise; it was more like -a subtle music without rise or fall or change; or like -a continuous, diffused, silvery-bright, musical hum, -which surrounded one like an atmosphere, and at -the same time pervaded and trembled through one -like a vibration. It was certainly very delightful, -and the feeling in this instance was not due to -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P171"></a>171}</span> -association, but, I think, to the intrinsic beauty of the -sound itself. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Wild flowers -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The Selborne stream, or Bourne, with its meadows -and tangled copses on either side, was my favourite -noonday haunt. The volume of water does not -greatly diminish during the summer months, but in -many places the bed of the stream was quite grown -over with aquatic plants, topped with figwort, huge -water-agrimony, with its masses of powdery, -flesh-coloured blooms, creamy meadow-sweet, and -rose-purple loosestrife, and willow-herb with its -appetising odour of codlins and cream. The wild musk, -or monkey-flower, a Hampshire plant about which -there will be much to say in another chapter, was -also common. At one spot a mass of it grew at the -foot of a high bank on the water's edge; from the -top of the bank long branches of briar-rose trailed -down, and the rich, pure yellow mimulus blossoms -and ivory-white roses of the briar were seen together. -An even lovelier effect was produced at another spot -by the mingling of the yellow flowers with the large -turquoise-blue water forget-me-nots. -</p> - -<p> -The most charming of the Selborne wild plants -that flower in July is the musk mallow. It was -quite common round the village, and perhaps the -finest plant I saw was in the churchyard, growing -luxuriantly by a humble grave near the little gate -that opens to the Lyth and Bourne. As it is known -to few persons, there must almost every day have -been strangers and pilgrims in the churchyard who -looked with admiration on that conspicuous plant, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P172"></a>172}</span> -with its deep-cut, scented geranium-like, beautiful -leaves, tender grey-green in colour, and its profusion -of delicate, silky, rose-coloured flowers. Many would -look on it as some rare exotic, and wonder at its -being there by that lowly green mound. But to the -residents it was a musk mallow and nothing more—a -weed in the churchyard. -</p> - -<p> -When one morning I found two men mowing the -grass, I called their attention to this plant and asked -them to spare it, telling them that it was one which -the daily visitors to the village would admire above -all the red geraniums and other gardeners' flowers -which they would have to leave untouched. This -simple request appeared to put them out a good -deal; they took their hats off and wiped the sweat -from their foreheads, and after gravely pondering the -matter for some time, said they would "see about -it" or "bear it in mind" when they came round to -that side. In the afternoon, when the mowing was -done, I returned and found that the musk mallow -had not been spared. -</p> - -<p> -During my stay I was specially interested in two -of the common Selborne birds—the cirl bunting and -the swift. At about four o'clock each morning the -lively, vigorous song of the cirl bunting would be -heard from the gardens or ground of the Wakes, at -the foot of the hill. From four to six, at intervals, -was his best singing-time; later in the day he sang -at much longer intervals. There appeared to be three -pairs of breeding birds: one at the Wakes, another -on the top of the hill to the left of the Zigzag path, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P173"></a>173}</span> -and a third below the churchyard. The cock bird of -the last pair sang at intervals every day during my -visit from a tree in the churchyard, and from a big -sycamore growing at the side of it. On 14th July -I had a good opportunity of judging the penetrative -power of this bunting's voice, for by chance, just -as the bells commenced ringing for the six o'clock -Sunday evening service, the bird, perched on a -small cypress in the churchyard, began to sing. -Though only about forty yards from the tower, he -was not in the least discomposed by the clanging -of the bells, but sang at proper intervals the usual -number of times—six or eight—his high, incisive -voice sounding distinct through that tempest of -jangled metallic music. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Cirl bunting -</span> -</p> - -<p> -I was often at Farringdon, a village close by, and -there, too, the churchyard had its cirl bunting, -singing merrily at intervals from a perch not above -thirty yards from the building. And as at Selborne -and Farringdon, so I have found it in most places in -Hampshire, especially in the southern half of the -county; the cirl is the village bunting whose favourite -singing place is in the quiet churchyard or the -shade-trees at the farm: compared with other members of -the genus he might almost be called our domestic -bunting. The yellowhammer is never heard in a -village: at Selborne to find him one had to climb -the hill and go out on the common, and there he -could be heard drawling out his lazy song all day -long. How curious to think that Gilbert White never -distinguished between these two species, although it -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P174"></a>174}</span> -is probable that he heard the cirl on every summer -day during the greater part of his life. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Visiting swifts -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The swifts at Selborne interested me even more, -and I spent a good many hours observing them; but -the swifts I watched were not, strange to say, the -native Selborne birds. When I arrived I took -particular notice of the swallows and swifts—a natural -thing to do in Gilbert White's village. The swallows, -I was sorry to find, had decreased so greatly in -numbers since my former visits that there were but few -left. The house-martins, though still not scarce, had -also fallen off a good deal. Of swifts there were -about eight or nine pairs, all with young in their -nests, in holes under the eaves of different cottages. -The old birds appeared to be very much taken up -with feeding their young: they ranged about almost -in solitude, never more than four or five birds being -seen together, and that only in the evening, and even -when in company they were silent and their flight -comparatively languid. This continued from the 12th -to the 16th, but on that day, at a little past seven -o'clock in the evening, I was astonished to see a -party of over fifty swifts rushing through the air -over the village in the usual violent way, uttering -excited screams as they streamed by. Rising to some -height in the air, they would scatter and float above -the church for a few moments, then close and rush -down and stream across the Plestor, coming as low -as the roofs of the cottages, then along the village -street for a distance of forty or fifty yards, after -which they would mount up and return to the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P175"></a>175}</span> -church, to repeat the same race over the same -course again and again. They continued their -pastime for an hour or longer, after which the flock -began to diminish, and in a short time had quite -melted away. -</p> - -<p> -On the following evening I was absent, but some -friends staying at the village watched for me, and -they reported that the birds appeared after seven -o'clock and played about the place for an hour or -two, then vanished as before. -</p> - -<p> -On the afternoon of the 18th I went with my friends -to the ground behind the churchyard, from which a -view of the sky all round can be obtained. Four or -five swifts were visible quietly flying about the sky, -all wide apart. At six o'clock a little bunch of half -a dozen swifts formed, and began to chase each -other in the usual way, and more birds, singly, and -in twos and threes, began to arrive. Some of these -were seen coming to the spot from the direction of -Alton. Gradually the bunch grew until it was a big -crowd numbering seventy to eighty birds, and as it -grew the excitement of the birds increased: until -eight o'clock they kept up their aerial mad gambols, -and then, as on the previous evenings, the flock -gradually dispersed. -</p> - -<p> -On the evening of the 19th the performance was -repeated, the birds congregated numbering about -sixty. On the 20th the number had diminished to -about forty, and an equal number returned on the -following evening; and this was the last time. We -watched in vain for them on the 22nd: no swifts -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P176"></a>176}</span> -but the half-a-dozen Selborne birds usually to be -seen towards evening were visible; nor did they return -on any other day up to the 24th, when my visit came -to an end. -</p> - -<p> -It is possible, and even probable, that these swifts -which came from a distance to hold their evening -games at Selborne were birds that had already finished -breeding, and were now free to go from home and -spend a good deal of time in purely recreative -exercises. The curious point is that they should have -made choice of this sultry spot for such a purpose. -It was, moreover, new to me to find that swifts do -sometimes go a distance from home to indulge in -such pastimes. I had always thought that the birds -seen pursuing each other with screams through the -sky at any place were the dwellers and breeders in -the locality; and this is probably the idea that most -persons have. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -I wish I could have visited Selborne again last -July, in order to find out whether or not the evening -gatherings and pastimes of the swifts occur annually. -But I was engaged elsewhere, and at the village I -failed to discover any person with interest enough -in such subjects to watch for me. It would have -been very strange if I had found such a one. -</p> - -<p> -It was not until October 1902 that I went back, -two months after the swifts had gone; but I was well -occupied for two or three weeks during this latest -visit in observing the ways of a grasshopper. -</p> - -<p> -There has already been much about insects in -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P177"></a>177}</span> -this book, and it may seem that I am giving a -disproportionate amount of space to these negligible -atomies; nevertheless I should not like to conclude -this chapter without adding an account of yet -another species, one indeed worthy to rank among -the Insect Notables of Southern England described -in a former chapter. The account comes best in this -place, since the species had seemed rare, or nowhere -abundant, until, in October, I found it most common -in Selborne parish; and here I came to know it well, -as I had come to know its great green relation, -<i>Locusta viridissima</i>, at Longparish. Both are of -one family, and are night singers, but the Selborne -insect belongs to a different genus—<i>Thamnotrizon</i>—of -which it is the only British representative; and -in colour and habits it differs widely from the green -grasshoppers. The members of this charming family -are found in all warm and temperate countries -throughout the world: in this island we may say -that they are at the extreme northern limit of their -range. Of our nine British species only three are -found north of the Thames. <i>Thamnotrizon cinereus</i> -is one of these, but is mainly a southern species, and -the latest of our grasshoppers to come to maturity. -In September it is full grown, and may be heard -until November. It is much smaller than <i>viridissima</i>, -and is very dark in colour, the female, which has no -vestige of wings, being of a uniform deep olive-brown, -except the under surface, which is bright -buttercup-yellow. The male, though smaller than -the female, and like her in colour, has a more -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P178"></a>178}</span> -distinguished appearance on account of his small -aborted wings, which serve as an instrument of -music, and form a disc of ashy grey colour on his -black and brown body. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -The black grasshopper -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Unless looked at closely this insect appears black, -and might very well be called the black grasshopper. -And here it is necessary once more to protest against -what must be regarded as a gross neglect of a plain -duty on the part of writers on our native insects who -will not give English names even to the most common -and interesting species. Unless it has a vernacular -name they will go on speaking of it as <i>Thamnotrizon -cinereus</i>, <i>Cordulegaster annulatus</i>, or whatever it may -be, to the end of time. This grasshopper has no -common name that I can discover: I have caught -and shown it to the country people, asking them -to name it, and they informed me that it was a -"grasshopper," or else a "cricket." Black, or black -and yellow, or autumn grasshopper would do very -well: but any English name would be better than -the entomologist's ponderous double name -compounded out of two dead languages. -</p> - -<p> -Our black grasshopper lives in grass and herbage, -in the shade of bushes and trees, and so long as the -weather is hot it is hard to find him, as he keeps in -the shade. He is furthermore the shyest and wariest -of his family, and ready to vanish on the least alarm. -He does not leap, but slips away into hiding; and -if one goes too near, or attempts to take him, he -suddenly vanishes. He simply drops down through -the leaves to the earth, and sits close and motionless -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P179"></a>179}</span> -at the roots on the dark mould, and unless touched -will not move. When traced down to his hiding-place -he leaps away, and again sits motionless, where, -owing to his dark colour on the dark soil, he is -invisible. Later, when the weather grows cool, he comes -out and sits on a leaf, basking by the hour in the sun, -his eyes turned from it; and it is then easy to find him, -the dark colour making him appear very conspicuous -on a green leaf. Occasionally he sings in the afternoon, -but, as a rule, he begins at dusk, and continues -for some hours. To sing, the males often go high up -in the bushes, and when emitting their sound are -almost constantly on the move. -</p> - -<p> -The sound is a cricket-like chirp; it is never -sustained, but in quality it resembles the subtle -musical shrilling of the <i>viridissima</i>, although it does -not carry half so far. -</p> - -<p> -In disposition the two species, the black and great -green grasshoppers, are very unlike. The female -<i>viridissima</i>, we have seen, is the most indolent and -placid creature imaginable, while the males are -perpetually challenging and fighting one another. The -males of the black grasshopper I could never detect -fighting. It is not easy to observe them, as they sing -mostly at night; and as a rule when singing they are -well hidden by the leaves. But I have occasionally -found two males singing together, apparently against -each other, when I would watch them, and although -as they moved about they constantly passed and -repassed so close that they all but touched, they never -struck at each other, nor put themselves into fighting -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P180"></a>180}</span> -attitudes. One day I found two males sitting on a -leaf together, side by side, like the best of friends, -basking in the sun. -</p> - -<p> -The female, on the other hand, is a most unpleasant -creature, so restless that in confinement she -spends the whole time in running about in her cage -or box, incessantly trying to get out, examining -everything, eating of everything given her, and -persecuting any other insect placed with her. When -I put males and females together the poor males -were kicked and bitten until they died. -</p> - -<p> -Before visiting Selborne in October, it had seemed -to me that hunting for this grasshopper was a most -fascinating pursuit. It was very hard to find him -by day, and when by chance you caught sight of -him, sitting on a green leaf in the sun and looking -like a small, very dark-coloured frog with abnormally -long hind legs, it was generally in a bramble bush, -into which he would vanish when approached too near. -</p> - -<p> -When at Selborne, one evening I heard one singing -among the herbage at the foot of the Hanger, and -next morning I found one at the same spot—a -female, sitting on a gold-red fallen beech leaf, her -blackness on the brilliant leaf making her very -conspicuous. A little later, when the wet weather -improved, I found the grasshopper all about the -village, and even in it; but it was most abundant -near the Well Head and in the hedges between -Selborne and Nore Hill. Here on a sunny morning I -could find a score or more of them, and at dark they -could be heard in numbers chirping in all the hedges. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P181"></a>181}</span></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER IX -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -The Selborne atmosphere—Unhealthy faces—Selborne -Common—Character of scenery—Wheatham Hill—Hampshire village -churches—Gilbert White's strictures—Churches big and -little—The peasants' religious feeling—Charm of old village -churches—Seeking Priors Dean—Privett church—Blackmoor -church—Churchyards—Change in gravestones—Beauty -of old gravestones—Red alga on gravestones—Yew trees in -churchyards—British dragon-tree—Farringdon village and -yew—Crowhurst yew—Hurstbourne Priors yew—How yew -trees are injured. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -It is a pleasure to be at Selborne; nevertheless -I find I always like Selborne best when I am -out of it, especially when I am rambling about -that bit of beautiful country on the border of which -it lies. The memory of Gilbert White; the old church -with its low, square tower and its famous yew tree; -above all, the constant sight of the Hanger clothed -in its beechen woods—green, or bronze and red-gold, -or purple-brown in leafless winter—all these things -do not prevent a sense of lassitude, of ill-being, which -I experience in the village when I am too long in it, -and which vanishes when I quit it, and seem to -breathe a better air. This is no mere fancy, nor -something peculiar to myself; the natives, too, are -subject to this secret trouble, and are, some of them, -conscious of it. Round about Selborne you will find -those who were born and bred in the village, who say -they were never well until they quitted it; and some -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P182"></a>182}</span> -of these declare that they would not return even if -some generous person were to offer them a cottage -rent free. The appearance of the people, too, may be -considered in this connection. Mary Russell Mitford -exclaims in one of her village sketches that there was -not a pretty face in the country-side. The want of -comeliness which is so noticeable in the southern -parts of Berkshire is not confined to that county. -The people of Berkshire and Hampshire, of the -blonde type, are very much alike. But there are -degrees; and if you want to see, I will not say a -handsome, nor a pretty, but a passably fresh and -pleasant face among the cottagers, you must go -out of Selborne to some neighbouring village to -look for it. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Selborne Common -</span> -</p> - -<p> -But this question does not now concern us. The -best of Selborne is the common on the hill—all the -better for the steep hill which must be climbed to -get to it, since that difficult way prevents the people -from making too free use of it, and regarding it as -a sort of back-yard or waste place to throw their -rubbish on. It is a perpetual joy to the children. -One morning in October I met there some youngsters -gathering kindling-wood, and feasting at the same -time on wild fruits—the sloes were just then at their -best. They told me that they had only recently -come to live in Selborne from Farringdon, their native -village. "And which place do you like best?" I -asked. "Selborne!" they shouted in a breath, and -indeed appeared surprised that I had asked such a -question. No wonder. This hill-top common is the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P183"></a>183}</span> -most forest-like, the wildest in England, and the -most beautiful as well, both in its trees and tangles -of all kinds of wild plants that flourish in waste -places, and in the prospects which one gets of the -surrounding country. Here, seeing the happiness of -the boys, I have wished to be a boy again. But one -does not think so much of this spot when one comes -to know the country round, and finds that Selborne -Hill is but one of many hills of the same singular -and beautiful type, sloping away gently on one side, -and presenting a bold, almost precipitous front on -the other, in most cases clothed on the steep side -with dense beech woods. It is now eight years since -I began to form an acquaintance with this east corner -of Hampshire, but not until last October (1902) did -I know how beautiful it was. From Selborne Hill -one sees something of it; a better sight is obtained -from Noire Hill, where one is able to get some idea -of the peculiar character of the scenery. It is all -wildly irregular, high and low grounds thrown -together in a pretty confusion, and the soil everywhere -fertile, so that the general effect is of extreme -richness. One sees, too, that the human population is -sparse, and that it has always been as it is now, and -man's work—his old irregular fields, and the unkept -hedges which, like the thickets on the waste places, -are self-planted, and have been self-planted for -centuries, and the old deep-winding lanes and -by-roads—have come at last to seem one with nature's -work. Out of this broken, variegated, richly green -surface, here and there, in a sort of range, but -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P184"></a>184}</span> -irregular like all else, the hills, or hangers, lift their -steep, bank-like fronts—splendid masses of red and -russet gold against the soft grey-blue autumnal sky. -It is delightful to walk through this bit of country -from Nore Hill, and from hill to hill, across green -fields, for the farms here are like wild lands that all -are free to use, to Wheatham Hill, the highest point, -which rises 800 feet above the sea-level. From this -elevation one looks over a great part of that green -variegated country of the Hangers, and sees on one -hand where it fades close by into the sand and pine -district beginning at Wolmer Forest, and on another -side, beyond the little town of Petersfield, the region -of great rolling downs stretching far away into Sussex. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Village churches -</span> -</p> - -<p> -In my rambles about this corner of Hampshire, -during which I visited all the villages nearest to -Selborne—Empshott, Hawkley, Greatham, East and -West Tisted, Worldham, Priors Dean, Colemore, -Privett, Froxfield, Hartley Maudit, Blackmore, -Oakhanger, Kingsley, Farringdon and Newton Valence—I -could not help thinking a good deal about Hampshire -village churches generally. It was a subject -which had often enough been in my mind before in -other parts of the county, but it now came back -to me in connection with Gilbert White's strictures -on these sacred buildings. Their "meanness" produced -a feeling in him which is the nearest approach -to indignation discoverable in his pages. He is speaking -of jackdaws breeding in rabbit holes, and shrewdly -conjectures that this habit has arisen on account of -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P185"></a>185}</span> -the absence of steeples and towers suitable as -nesting-places. "Many Hampshire places of worship," he -remarks, "make no better appearance than -dovecotes." He envied Northamptonshire, Cambridgeshire, -the Fens of Lincolnshire, and other districts, -the number of spires which presented themselves in -every point of view, and concludes: "As an admirer -of prospects I have reason to lament this want in -my own county, for such objects are very necessary -ingredients in an elegant landscape." -</p> - -<p> -The honoured historian of the parish of Selborne -makes me shudder in this passage. But I am, perhaps, -giving too much importance to his words, since one -may judge, from his mention of Norfolk in this -connection as being even worse off than his own county, -that he was not well informed on the subject. -Norfolk, like Somerset, abounds in grand old churches -of the Perpendicular period. That smallness, or -"meanness" as he expresses it, of the Hampshire -churches, is, to my mind, one of their greatest merits. -The Hampshire village would not possess that charm -which we find in it—its sweet rusticity and -homeliness, and its harmonious appearance in the midst -of a nature green and soft and beautiful—but for -that essential feature and part of it, the church which -does not tower vast and conspicuous as a gigantic -asylum or manufactory from among lowly cottages -dwarfed by its proximity to the appearance of -pigmy-built huts in the Aruwhimi forest. These immense -churches which in recent years have lifted their tall -spires and towers amidst lowly surroundings in many -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P186"></a>186}</span> -rural places, are, as a rule, the work of some zealot -who has seared his sense of beauty with a hot iron, -or else of a new over-rich lord of the manor, who -must have all things new, including a big new church -to worship a new God in—his own peculiar Stock -Exchange God, who is a respecter of wealthy persons. -Here in Hampshire we have seen the old but well -preserved village church pulled down—doubtless -with the consent of the ecclesiastical authorities—its -ancient monuments broken up and carted away, -its brasses made into fire ornaments by cottagers -or sold as old metal, and the very gravestones used -in paving the scullery and offices of the grand new -parsonage built to match the grand new church. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Peasants' religious feeling -</span> -</p> - -<p> -When coming upon one of these "necessary -ingredients in an elegant landscape" in some rural -spot I have sometimes wondered what the feeling -of the people who have spent their lives there can -be about it. What effect has the new vast building, -with its highly decorated yet cold and vacant -interior, on their dim minds—on their religion, let us -say? It may be a poor unspiritual sort of religion, -based on old traditions and associations, mostly -local; but shall we scorn it on that account? If -we look a little closely into the matter, we see that -all men, even the most intellectual, the most spiritual, -are subject to this feeling in some degree, that it is -in all religions. That which from use, from association, -becomes symbolic of faith is in itself sacred. -At the present time the Church is torn with dissensions -because of this very question. Certain bodily -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P187"></a>187}</span> -positions and signs and gestures, and woven fabrics -and garments of many patterns and colours, and wood -and stone and metal objects, and lighted candles and -perfumes—mere hay and stubble to others who have -different symbols—are things essential to worship in -some. Touch these things and you hurt their souls; -you deprive them of their means of communication -with another world. So the poor peasant who was -born and lives in a thatched cottage, with his limited -intelligence, his animism, associates the idea of the -unseen world with the sacred objects he has seen -and known and handled—the small ancient building, -the red-barked, dark-leafed yew, the green mounds -and lichened gravestones among which he played -as a child, and the dim, low-roofed interior of what -was to him God's House. Whatever there is in -his mind that is least earthly, whatever thoughts -he may have of the unseen world and a life beyond -this life, were inseparably bound up with these -visible things. -</p> - -<p> -We need not follow this line any farther; those who -believe with me that the sense of the beautiful is -God's best gift to the human soul will see that I have -put the matter on other and higher grounds. The small -village church with its low tower or grey-shingled -spire among the shade trees, is beautiful chiefly -because man and nature with its softening processes -have combined to make it a fit part of the scene, a -building which looks as natural and harmonious as -an old hedge which man planted once and nature -replanted many times, and as many an old thatched -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P188"></a>188}</span> -timbered cottage, and many an old grey ruin, -ivy-grown, with red valerian blooming on its walls. -</p> - -<p> -To pull down one of these churches to put in its -place a gigantic Gothic structure in brick or stone, -better suited in size (and ugliness) for a London or -Liverpool church than for a small rustic village in -Hampshire, is nothing less than a crime. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Seeking Priors Dean -</span> -</p> - -<p> -When calling to mind the churches known to me -in this part of Hampshire, I always think with -peculiar pleasure of the smaller ones, and perhaps with -the most pleasure of the smallest of all—Priors Dean. -</p> - -<p> -It happened that the maps which I use in my -Hampshire rambles and which I always considered -the best—Bartholomew's two miles to the inch—did -not mark Priors Dean, so that I had to go and -find it for myself. I went with a friend one -excessively hot day in July, by Empshott and Hawkley -through deep by-roads so deep and narrow and roofed -over with branches as to seem in places like tunnels. -On that hot day in the silent time of year it was -strangely still, and gave one the feeling of being in -a country long deserted by man. Its only inhabitants -now appeared to be the bullfinches. In these deep -shaded lanes one constantly hears the faint plaintive -little piping sound, the almost inaudible alarm note -of the concealed bird; and at intervals, following -the sound, he suddenly dashes out, showing his -sharp-winged shape and clear grey and black upper -plumage marked with white for a moment or two -before vanishing once more in the overhanging foliage. -</p> - -<p> -We went a long way round, but at last coming to -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P189"></a>189}</span> -an open spot we saw two cottages and two women -and a boy standing talking by a gate, and of these -people we asked the way to Priors Dean. They could -not tell us. They knew it was not far away—a mile -perhaps; but they had never been to it, nor seen it, -and didn't well know the direction. The boy when -asked shook his head. A middle-aged man was digging -about thirty yards away, and to him one of the -women now called, "Can you tell them the way to -Priors Dean?" -</p> - -<p> -The man left off digging, straightened himself, and -gazed steadily at us for some moments. He was one -of the usual type—nine in every ten farm labourers -in this corner of Hampshire are of it—thinnish, of -medium height, a pale, parchment face, rather large -straightish nose, pale eyes with little speculation in -them, shaved mouth and chin, and small side whiskers -as our fathers wore them. The moustache has not -yet been adopted by these conservatives. The one -change they have made is, alas! in their dress—the -rusty black coat for the smock frock. -</p> - -<p> -When he had had his long gaze, he said, "Priors -Dean?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Priors Dean," repeated the woman, raising -her voice. -</p> - -<p> -He turned up two spadefuls of earth, then asked -again, "Priors Dean?" -</p> - -<p> -"Priors Dean!" shouted the woman. "Can't you -tell 'em how to get to it?" Then she laughed. She -had perhaps come from some other part of the country -where minds are not quite so slow, and where the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P190"></a>190}</span> -slow-minded person is treated as being deaf and -shouted at. -</p> - -<p> -Then, at last, he stuck his spade into the soil, and -leaving it, slowly advanced to the gate and told us -to follow a path which he pointed out, and when we -got on the hill we would see Priors Dean before us. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Churches old and new -</span> -</p> - -<p> -And that was how we found it. There is a satirical -saying in the other villages that if you want to find -the church at Priors Dean you must first cut down -the nettles. There were no nettles nor weeds of any -kind, only the small ancient church with its little -shingled spire standing in the middle of a large -green graveyard with about a dozen or fifteen -gravestones scattered about, three old tombs, and, close -to the building, an ancient yew tree. This is a big, -and has been a bigger, tree, as a large part of the -trunk has perished on one side, but as it stands it -measures nearly twenty-four feet round a yard from -the earth. This, with a small farmhouse, in old times -a manor house, and its outbuildings and a cottage -or two, make the village. So quiet a spot is it that to -see a human form or hear a human voice comes almost -as a surprise. The little antique church, the few stones, -the dark ancient tree—these are everything, and the -effect on the mind is strangely grateful—a sense of -enduring peace, with something of that solitariness -and desolation which we find in unspoilt wildernesses. -</p> - -<p> -From these smallest churches, which appear like -a natural growth where they are seen, I turn to the -large and new, and the largest of all at this place—that -of Privett. From its gorgeous yet vacant and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P191"></a>191}</span> -cold interior, and from the whole vast structure, -including that necessary ingredient in an elegant -landscape, the soaring spire visible for many miles -around, I turn away as from a jarring and discordant -thing—the feeling one experiences at the sight of -those brand-new big houses built by over-rich -stock-jobbers on many hills and open heaths in Surrey -and, alas! in Hampshire. -</p> - -<p> -I do not, however, say that all new and large -churches raised in small rustic centres appear as -discordant things. Even in the group of villages -which I have named there is a new and comparatively -large one which moves one to admiration -the church of Blackmoor. Here the vegetation and -surroundings are unlike those which accord best -with the small typical structures, the low tower and -shingled spire. The tall, square tower of Blackmoor, -of white stone roofed with red tiles, rises amid the -pines of Wolmer Forest, simple and beautiful in -shape, and gives a touch of grace and grateful colour -to that darker, austere nature. From every point of -view it is a pleasure to the eye, and because of its -enduring beauty the memory of the man who raised -it is like a perfume in the wilderness. -</p> - -<p> -It is, however, time that bestows the best grace, -the indescribable charm to the village church—long -centuries of time, which gives the feeling, the -expression, of immemorial peace to the weathered and -ivied building itself and the surrounding space, the -churchyard, with its green heaps, and scattered -stones, and funeral yew. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P192"></a>192}</span> -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Change in gravestones -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The associated feeling, the <i>expression</i>, is -undoubtedly the chief thing in the general effect, but -the constituents or objects which compose the scene -are in themselves pleasing; and one scarcely less -important than the building itself, the universal -grass, the dark, red-barked tree, is the gravestone. -I mean the gravestone that is attractive in shape, -which may be seen in every old village churchyard -in Hampshire; for not all the stones are of this -character. The stone that is beautiful dates back -half a century at least, but very few are as old as -a century and a half. When we get that far and -farther back the inscription is obliterated or -indecipherable. Only here and there we may by chance -find some stone, half buried in the soil, of an -exceptional hardness, marking the spot where lieth one -who departed this life in the seventeenth or early -in the eighteenth century. There are many old stones, -it is true, with nothing legible on them, but one does -not know how old they are. It is not that these -gravestones are beautiful only because they are old, -and have had their hard surface softened and -embroidered with green moss and lichen of many shades -from pale-grey to orange and red and brown. The -form of the stone, the stone-cutter's work, was -beautiful before Nature began to work on it with her -sunshine, her rain, her invisible seed. I cannot think -why this old fashion, or rather, let us say, this tender, -sacred custom, of marking the last resting-place of -the dead with a memorial satisfying to the ęsthetic -sense, should have gone or died out. The gravestones -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P193"></a>193}</span> -used at the present time are, as a rule, twice as big -as the old ones, and are perfectly plain—immense -stone slabs, inscribed with big, fat, black letters -differing in size, the whole inscription curiously -resembling the local auctioneer's bills to be seen -pasted up on barn-doors, fences, and other suitable -places. So big and hard, and bold, and ugly—I try -not to see them! -</p> - -<p> -Look from these at the old stone which the earthworms -have been busy trying to bury for a century, -until the lower half of the inscription is underground; -the stone which the lichen has embossed and richly -coloured; round which the grass grows so close and -lovingly, and the small creeping ivy tries to cover. -This which has been added to it is but a part of its -beauty: you see that its lines are graceful, that they -were made so; that the inscription—"Here lyeth -the body," etc.—is not cut in letters in use in -newspapers and advertising placards, and have -therefore no common nor degrading associations, but are -letters of other forms, graceful, too, in their lines; -and that above the inscription there are sculptured -and symbolic figures and lines—emblems of -mortality, eternal hope, and a future life—heads of -cherubs, winged and blowing on horns, and the sun -and wings; skulls and crossbones, and hour-glass -and scythe; the funeral urn and weeping-willow; -the lighted torch; the heart in flames, or bleeding, -or transfixed with arrows; the angel's trumpet, the -crown of glory, the palm and the lily, the laurel -leaf, and many more. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P194"></a>194}</span> -</p> - -<p> -Did we think this art, or this custom, too little a -thing to cherish any longer? I cannot find any -person with a word to say about it. I have tried -and the result was curious. I have invited persons -of my acquaintance into an old churchyard and -begged them to look on this stone and on this—the -hard ugliness of one, an insult to the dead, and the -beauty, the pathos, of the other. And they have -immediately fallen into a melancholy silence, or -else they have suddenly become angry, apparently -for no cause. But the reason probably was that they -had never given a thought to the subject, that when -they had buried someone dear to them—a mother -or wife or daughter—they simply went to the -stonemason and ordered a gravestone, leaving him to -fashion it in his own way. The reason of the reason—the -full explanation of the singular fact that they, -in these house-beautiful and generally art-worshipping -times, had given no thought to the matter -until it was unexpectedly sprung upon them; and -that if they had lived, say, a hundred years ago, -they would have given it some thought—this the -reader will easily find out for himself. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Beauty of old gravestones -</span> -</p> - -<p> -It is comforting to reflect that gravestones do not -last for ever, nor for very long; and in the meantime -Nature is doing what she can with our ugly -modern memorials, touching, softening, and tingeing -them with her mosses, lichens, and with algę—her -beautiful <i>iolithus</i>. In most churchyards in -southern England we see many stones stained a -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P195"></a>195}</span> -peculiar colour, a bright rust-red, darkest in dry -weather, and brightest in wet summers, often -varying to pink and purple and orange; but whatever -the hue or shade the effect on the grey stone, lichened -or not, is always beautiful. It is not a lichen; when -the staining is looked closely at nothing is seen but -a roughness, a powdery appearance, on the stone's -surface. It is an aerial alga of the genus <i>Croöleptus</i>, -confined to the southern half of England, and most -common in Hampshire, where its beautifying blush -may sometimes be seen on old stone walls of churches, -and old houses and ruins; but it flourishes most -on gravestones, especially in moist situations. The -stone must not be too hard, and must, moreover, be -acted on by the weather for well-nigh half a century -before the alga begins to show on it; but you will -sometimes see it on an exceptionally soft stone dating -no more than thirty or forty years back. On old -stones it is very common, and peculiarly beautiful -in wet summers. In June 1902, after many days of -rain, I stood one evening at the little gate at -Brockenhurst churchyard, and counted between me and the -church twenty gravestones stained with the red alga, -showing a richness and variety of colouring never -seen before, the result of so much wet weather. For -this alga, which plays so important a part in nature's -softening and beautifying effect on man's work—which -is mentioned in no book unless it be some -purely technical treatise dealing with the lower -vegetable forms—this alga, despite its aerial habit, -is still in essence a water-plant: the sun and dry -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P196"></a>196}</span> -wind burn its life out and darken it to the colour -of ironstone, so that to anyone who may notice the -dark stain it seems a colour of the stone itself; but -when rain falls the colour freshens and brightens -as if the old grey stone had miraculously been -made to live. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Churchyard yews -</span> -</p> - -<p> -If never a word has been written about that red -colour with which Nature touches the old stones to -make them beautiful, a thousand or ten thousand -things have been said about the yew, the chief -feature and ornament of the village churchyard, and -many conjectures have we seen as to the reason -of the very ancient custom of planting this tree -where the dead are laid. The tree itself gives a -better reason than any contained in books. It says -something to the soul in man which the talking or -chattering yew omitted to tell the modern poet; but -very long ago someone said, in the <i>Death of Fergus</i>, -"Patriarch of long-lasting woods is the yew; sacred -to forests as is well known." That ancient sacred -character, which survived the introduction of -Christianity, lives still in every mind that has kept any -vestige of animism, the root and essence of all that -is wonderful and sacred in nature. That red and -purple bark is the very colour of life, and this tree's -life, compared with other things, is everlasting. The -stones we set up as memorials grow worn and seamed -and hoary with age, even like men, and crumble to -dust at last; in time new stones are put in their -place, and these, too, grow old and perish, and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P197"></a>197}</span> -are succeeded by others; and through all changes, -through the ages, the tree lives on unchanged. With -its huge, tough, red trunk; its vast, knotted arms -outstretched; its rich, dark mantle of undying -foliage, it stands like a protecting god on the earth, -patriarch and monarch of woods; and indeed it -seems but right and natural that not to oak nor -holly, nor any other reverenced tree, but to the yew -it was given to keep guard over the bodies and souls -of those who have been laid in the earth. -</p> - -<p> -The yew is sometimes called the "Hampshire -weed," on account of its abundance in the county; -if it must have a second name, I suggest that the -Hampshire or British dragon-tree would be a better -and more worthy one. It would admirably fit some -ancient churchyard yews in the neighbourhood of -Selborne, especially that of Farringdon. -</p> - -<p> -In the great mass of literature concerning Gilbert -White, there is curiously little said about this village; -yet it has one of the most interesting old churches -in the county—the church in which White officiated -for over a quarter of a century, during all the best -years of his life, in fact; for when he resigned the -curacy at Farringdon to take that of Selborne, for -which he had waited so long, he was within two -years of bidding a formal farewell to natural history, -and within eight of his death. The church register -from 1760 to 1785 is written in his clear, beautiful -hand, and in the rectory garden there is a large -Spanish chestnut-tree planted by him. Although not -so fortunate in its surroundings as Selborne, with -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P198"></a>198}</span> -its Lyth and flowery Bourne and wooded Hanger, -Farringdon village, with its noble church and fine -old farm-buildings and old cottages, is the better -village of the two. At the side of the churchyard -there is an old oast-house, now used as a barn, which -for quaintness and beauty has hardly its match in -England. The churchyard itself is a pretty, peaceful -wilderness, deep in grass, with ivy and bramble -hanging to the trees, and spreading over tombs and -mounds. Long may it be kept sacred from the -gardener, with his abhorred pruning-hook, his basket -of geranium cuttings—inharmonious flower!—and his -brushwood broom to make it all tidy. Finally, there -is the wonderful old yew. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Farringdon yew -</span> -</p> - -<p> -A great deal has been written first and last about -the Selborne yew, which appears to rank as one of -the half-dozen biggest yew trees in the country. Its -age is doubtless very great, and may greatly exceed -the "thousand years" usually given to a very large -churchyard yew. The yews planted two hundred -years ago by Gilbert White's grandfather in the -parsonage garden close by, are but saplings in -comparison. A black poplar would grow a bigger -trunk in less than ten years. The Selborne yew was -indeed one of the antiquities of the village when -White described it a century and a quarter ago. It -is, moreover, the best-grown, healthiest, and most -vigorous-looking yew of its size in Britain. The -Farringdon yew, the bigger tree, has a far more aged -aspect—the appearance of a tree which has been -decaying for an exceedingly long period. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P199"></a>199}</span> -</p> - -<p> -Trees, like men, have their middle period, when -their increase slowly lessens until it ceases altogether; -their long stationary period, and their long decline: -each of these periods may, in the case of the yew, -extend to centuries; and we know that behind them -all there may have been centuries of slow growth. -The Selborne yew has added something to its girth -since it was measured by White, and is now twenty-seven -feet round in its biggest part, and exceeds by -at least three feet the big yew at Priors Dean, and -the biggest of the three churchyard yews at Hawkley. -The Farringdon yew in its biggest part, about five -feet from the ground, measures thirty feet, and to -judge by its ruinous condition it must have ceased -adding to its bulk more than a century ago. One -regrets that White gave no account of its size and -appearance in his day. It has, in the usual manner, -decayed above and below, the upper branches dying -down while the trunk rots away beneath, the tree -meanwhile keeping itself alive and renewing its youth, -as it were, by means of that power which the yew -possesses of saving portions of its trunk from complete -decay by covering them inside and out with new bark. -</p> - -<p> -In the churchyard yew at Crowhurst, Surrey, we -see that the upper part of the tree has decayed until -nothing but the low trunk, crowned with a poor fringe -of late branches, has been left; in this case the -trunk remains outwardly almost entire—an empty -shell or cylinder, large enough to accommodate -fourteen persons on the circular bench placed within -the cavity. In other cases we see that the trunk has -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P200"></a>200}</span> -been eaten through and through, and split up into -strips; that the strips, covered inside with new bark, -have become separate trunks, in some instances -united above, as in that of the yew in South Hayling -churchyard. The Farringdon tree has decayed below -in this way; long strips from the top to the roots -have rotted and turned to dust; and the sound -portions, covered in and out with bark, form a group -of half a dozen flattened boles, placed in a circle, all -but one, which springs from the middle, and forms -a fantastically twisted column in the centre of the -edifice. Between this central strangely shaped bole, -now dead, and the surrounding ring there is space for -a man to walk round in. -</p> - -<p> -It is a wonderful tree, which White looked at every -day for five-and-twenty years, yet never mentioned, -and which Loe says nothing about in his <i>Yew Trees of -Great Britain and Ireland</i>. The title of this work is -misleading: <i>Famous Yew Trees</i> it should have been, -since it is nothing but a collection of facts as to size, -supposed age, etc., of trees that have often been -measured and described, and are accordingly well -known. It is well, to my way of thinking, that he -attempted nothing more. It is always a depressing -thought, when one has discovered a wonderful or a -beautiful thing, that a very full and very exact -account of it is and must be contained in some musty -monograph by some industrious, dreary person. At -all events, I can say that the yew trees which have -most attracted me, which come up when I think of -the yew as a wonderful and a sacred tree, are not -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P201"></a>201}</span> -in the book. Of my Hampshire favourites I will, for -a special reason, speak of but one more—the yew -in the churchyard of Hurstbourne Priors, a small -village on the upper Test, near Andover. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Hurstbourne Priors yew -</span> -</p> - -<p> -This tree, which is doubtless very aged, has not -grown an enormous trunk, nor is it high for an old -yew, but its appearance is nevertheless strangely -impressive, owing to the length of its lower horizontal -branches, which extend to a distance of thirty -to thirty-five feet from the trunk, and would lie on -the ground if not kept up by props. Another thing -which make one wonder is the number of graves -that are crowded together beneath these vast -sheltering arms. One may count over thirty stones, -some very old; many more have probably perished, -and there are besides many green mounds. I have -watched in a churchyard in the Midlands a grave -being dug under a yew, at about three yards' distance -from the trunk: a barrowful of roots was taken out -during the process. It seemed to me that a very -serious injury was being inflicted on the tree, and it -is probable that many of our very old churchyard -yews have been dwarfed in their growth by such -cutting of the roots. But what shall we say of the -Hurstbourne Priors yew, from which not one but -thirty or forty barrow-loads of living roots must have -been taken at various times to make room for so -many coffins! And what is the secret of the custom -in this, and probably other villages, of putting the -dead so close to or under the shelter of the tree? -</p> - -<p> -Compare this Hurstbourne Priors yew, and many -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P202"></a>202}</span> -other ancient churchyard yews in Hampshire, with -that of Selborne, which albeit probably no older is -double their size: is it not probable that the Selborne -tree is the largest, best grown, and most vigorous of -the old yews because it has not been mutilated at its -roots as the others have been? -</p> - -<p> -There is but one grave beneath or near this tree; -not the grave of any important person, but a -nameless green mound of some obscure peasant. I had -often looked with a feeling almost of astonishment -at that solitary conspicuous mound in such a place, -midway between the trunk of the tree and the -church door, wondering who it was whose poor -remains had been so honoured, and why it was. -Then by chance I found out the whole story; but -it came to me in scraps, at different times and -places, and that is how I will give it to the reader, -in fragments, in the course of the following chapter. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P203"></a>203}</span></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER X -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -Wolmer Forest—Charm of contrast and novelty in -scenery—Aspect of Wolmer—Heath and pine—Colour of water and -soil—An old woman's recollections—Story of the "Selborne -mob"—Past and present times compared—Hollywater Clump—Age -of trees—Bird life in the forest—Teal in their breeding -haunts—Boys in the forest—Story of the horn-blower. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The first part of the story of that Selborne -mound in a strange place was heard at -Wolmer Forest, over five years ago, during -my first prolonged visit to that spot. I have often -been there since, and have stayed many days, but -a first impression of a place, as of a face, is always -the best, the brightest, the truest, and I wish to -describe Wolmer as I saw it then. -</p> - -<p> -It struck me on that visit that the pleasure we -have in visible nature depends in a measure on -contrast and novelty. Never is moist verdure so -refreshing and delightful to the eye as when we come to -it from brown heaths and grey barren downs and -uplands. So, too, the greenness of the green earth -sharpens our pleasure in all stony and waste places; -trim flower gardens show us the beauty of thorns and -briars, and make us in love with desolation. As in -light and shade, wet and dry, tempest and calm, so -the peculiar attractions of each scene and aspect of -nature are best "illustrated by their contraries." -</p> - -<p> -I had, accordingly, the best preparation for a visit -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P204"></a>204}</span> -to Wolmer by a few days' ramble in Alice Holt -Forest, with its endless oaks, and in the luxuriant -meadows and cool shady woods at Waverley Abbey. -It was a great change to Wolmer Forest. Although -its soil is a "hungry, bare sand," it has long been -transformed from the naked heath of Gilbert White's -time to a vast unbroken plantation. Looked upon from -some eminence it has a rough, dark aspect. There are -no smooth summits and open pleasant places; all is -covered by the shaggy mantle of the pines. But it -is nowhere gloomy, as pine woods are apt to be: the -trees are not big enough, on account of that hungry -sand in which they are rooted, or because they are -not yet very old. The pines not being too high and -shady to keep the sun and air out, the old aboriginal -vegetation has not been killed: in most places the -ling forms a thick undergrowth, and looks green, -while outside of the forest, in the full glare of the -sun, it has a harsh, dry, dead appearance. -</p> - -<p> -On account of this abundance of ling a strange and -lovely appearance is produced in some favourable -years, when the flowers are in great profusion and -all the plants blossom at one time. That most -beautiful sight of the early spring, when the bloom of the -wild hyacinth forms a sheet of azure colour under the -woodland trees, is here repeated in July, but with -a difference of hue both in the trees above and in -the bloom beneath. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Wolmer Forest -</span> -</p> - -<p> -In May, Wolmer is comparatively flowerless, and -there is no bright colour, except that of the earth -itself in some naked spot. The water of the sluggish -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P205"></a>205}</span> -boggy streamlets in the forest, tributaries of the -well-named Dead Water, takes a deep red or orange -hue from the colour of the soil. The sand abounds -with ironstone, which in the mass is deep rust-red- -and purple-coloured. When crushed and pulverised -by traffic and weather on the roads, it turns to a -vivid chrome yellow. In the hot noonday sun the -straight road that runs through the forest appeared -like a yellow band or ribbon. That was a curious and -novel picture, which I often had before me during -the excessively dry and windy weather in May—the -vast whity-blue, hot sky, without speck or stain of -cloud above, and the dark forest covering the earth, -cut through by that yellow zone, extending straight -away until it was lost in the hazy distance. Even -stranger was the appearance when the wind blew -strongest and raised clouds of dust from the road, -which flew like fiery yellow vapours athwart the -black pines. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -The "Selborne mob" -</span> -</p> - -<p> -In a small house by the roadside in the middle of -the forest I found a temporary home. My aged -landlady proved a great talker, and treated me to -a good deal of Hampshire dialect. Her mind was -well stored with ancient memories. At first I let -her ramble on without paying too much attention; -but at length, while speaking of the many little -ups and downs of her not uneventful life, she asked -me if I knew Selborne, and then informed me that -she was a native of that village, and that her family -had lived there for generations. Her mother had -reached the age of eighty-six years; she had married -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P206"></a>206}</span> -her third husband when over seventy. By her first -she had had two and by her second thirteen children, -and my informant, who is now aged seventy-six, was -the last born. This wonderful mother of hers, who -had survived three husbands, and whose memory -went back several years into the eighteenth century, -had remembered the Rev. Gilbert White very well: -she was aged about twelve when he died. It was -wonderful, she said, how many interesting things she -used to tell about him; for Gilbert White, whose -name was known to the great world outside of his -parish, was often in her mind when she recalled her -early years. Unfortunately, these interesting things -had now all slipped out of my landlady's memory. -Whenever I brought her to the point she would stand -with eyes cast down, the fingers of her right hand -on her forehead, trying—trying to recall something -to tell me: a simple creature, who was without -imagination, and could invent nothing. Then little -by little she would drift off into something else—to -recollections of people and events not so remote -in time, scenes she had witnessed herself, and which -had made a deeper impression on her mind. One -was how her father, her mother's second husband, -had acted as horn-blower to the "Selborne mob," -when the poor villagers were starving; and how, -blowing on his horn, he had assembled his -fellow-revolutionists, and led them to an attack on the -poorhouse, where they broke down the doors and -made a bonfire of the furniture; then on to the -neighbouring village of Headley to get recruits for their -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P207"></a>207}</span> -little army. Then the soldiery arrived on the scene, -and took them prisoners and sent them to Winchester, -where they were tried by some little unremembered -Judge Jeffreys, who sentenced many or most of -them to transportation; but not the horn-blower, -who had escaped, and was in hiding among the -beeches of the famous Selborne Hanger. Only at -midnight he would steal down into the village to get -a bite of food and hear the news from his vigorous -and vigilant wife. At length, during one of these -midnight descents, he was seen, and captured, and -sent to Winchester. But by this time the authorities -had grown sick—possibly ashamed—of dealing so -harshly with a few poor peasants, whose -sufferings had made them mad, and the horn-blower -was pardoned, and died in bed at home when his -time came. -</p> - -<p> -I did not cease questioning the poor woman, because -she would not admit that all she had heard about -Gilbert White was gone past recall. Often and often -had she thought of what her mother had told her. -Up to within two or three years ago she remembered -it all so well. What was it now? Once more, standing -dejected in the middle of the room, she would -cudgel her old brains. So much had happened since -she was a girl. She had been brought up to farm-work. -Here would follow the names of various farms -in the parishes of Selborne, Newton Valence, and -Oakhanger, where she had worked, mostly in the fields; -and of the farmers, long dead and gone most of them, -who had employed her. All her life she had worked -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P208"></a>208}</span> -hard, struggling to live. When people complained -of hard times now, of the little that was paid them -for their work, she and her husband remembered -what it was thirty and forty and fifty years ago, and -they wondered what people really wanted. Cheap -food, cheap clothing, cheap education for the -children—everything was cheap now, and the pay more. -And she had had so many children to bring up—ten; -and seven of them were married, and were -now having so many children of their own that she -could hardly keep count of them. -</p> - -<p> -It was idle to listen; and at last, in desperation, -I would jump up and rush out, for the wind was -calling in the pines, and the birds were calling, and -what they had to tell was just then of more interest -than any human story. -</p> - -<p> -Not far from my cottage there was a hill, from the -summit of which the whole area of the forest was -visible, and the country all round for many leagues -beyond it. I did not like this hill, and refused to -pay it a second visit. The extent of country it -revealed made the forest appear too small; it spoilt -the illusion of a practically endless wilderness, where -I could stroll about all day and see no cultivated -spot, and no house, and perhaps no human form. -It was, moreover, positively disagreeable to be -stared at across the ocean of pines by a big, -brand-new, red-brick mansion, standing conspicuous, -unashamed, affronting nature, on some wide heath or -lonely hillside. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Hollywater Clump -</span> -</p> - -<p> -A second hill, not far from the first, was preferable -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P209"></a>209}</span> -when I wished for a wide horizon, or to drink the -wind and the music of the wind. Round and dome-like, -it stood alone; and although not so high as -its neighbour, it was more conspicuous, and seen -from a distance appeared to be vastly higher. The -reason of this was that it was crowned with a grove -of Scotch firs with boles that rose straight and smooth -and mast-like to a height of about eighty feet; thus, -seen from afar, the hill looked about a hundred feet -higher than it actually was, the tree-tops themselves -forming a thick, round dome, conspicuous above the -surrounding forest, and Wolmer's most prominent -feature. I have often said of Hampshire—very many -persons have said the same—that it lacks one -thing—sublimity, or, let us say, grandeur. I have been -over all its high, open down country, and upon all its -highest hills, which, although rising to a thousand -feet above the sea at one point, yet do not impress -one so much as the South Downs; and I have been -in all its forest lands, which have wildness and a -thousand beauties, and one asks for nothing better. -But the Hollywater Clump in Wolmer Forest as soon -as I come in sight of it wakes in me another sense -and feeling; and I have found in conversation with -others on this subject that they are affected in the -same way. I doubt if anyone can fail to experience -such a feeling when looking on that great hill-top -grove, a stupendous pillared temple, with its -dome-like black roof against the sky, standing high -above and dominating the sombre pine and heath -country for miles around. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P210"></a>210}</span> -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Bird life in the forest -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Gilbert White described Wolmer as a naked heath -with very few trees growing on it. The Hollywater -Clump must, one cannot but think, have been planted -before or during his time. One old native of Wolmer, -whose memory over five years ago went back about -sixty years, assured me that the trees looked just as -big when he was a little boy as they do now. -Undoubtedly they are very old, and many, we see, are -decaying, and some are dead, and for many years -past they have been dying and falling. -</p> - -<p> -The green woodpecker had discovered the unsoundness -of many of them; in some of the trunks, in their -higher part, the birds had made several holes. These -were in line, one above the other, like stops in a -flute. Most of these far-up houses or flats were -tenanted by starlings. This was only too apparent -for the starling, although neat and glossy in his dress -is an untidy tenant, and smears the trunk beneath -the entrance to his nest with numberless droppings. -You might fancy that he had set himself to whitewash -his tenement, and had carelessly capsized his -little bucket of lime on the threshold. -</p> - -<p> -It was pleasant in the late afternoon to sit at the -feet of these stately red columns—this brave -company of trees, that are warred against by all the -winds of heaven—and look upon the black legions -of the forest covering the earth beneath them for -miles. High up in the swaying, singing tops a kind -of musical talk was audible—the starlings' medley -of clinking, chattering, wood-sawing, knife-grinding, -whistling, and bell-like sounds. Higher still, above -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P211"></a>211}</span> -the tree-tops, the jackdaws were at their aerial -gambols, calling to one another, exulting in the -wind. They were not breeding there, but were -attracted to the spot by the height of the hill, with -its crown of soaring trees. Some strong-flying -birds—buzzards, kites, vultures, gulls, and many -others—love to take their exercise far from earth, making -a playground of the vast void heaven. The wind-loving -jackdaw, even in his freest, gladdest moments, -never wholly breaks away from the earth, and for -a playground prefers some high, steep place—a hill, -cliff, spire, or tower—where he can perch at intervals, -and from which he can launch himself, as the impulse -takes him, either to soar and float above, or to cast -himself down into the airy gulf below. -</p> - -<p> -Stray herons, too, come to the trees to roost. The -great bird could be seen far off, battling with the -wind, rising and falling, blown to this side and that, -now displaying his pale under-surface, and now the -slaty blue of his broad, slow-flapping wings. -</p> - -<p> -As the sun sank nearer to the horizon, the tall -trunks would catch the level beams and shine like -fiery pillars, and the roof thus upheld would look -darker and gloomier by contrast. With the passing -of that red light, the lively bird-notes would cease, -the trees would give forth a more solemn, sea-like -sound, and the day would end. -</p> - -<p> -My days, during all the time I spent at Wolmer, -when I had given up asking questions, and my poor -old woman had ceased cudgelling her brains for lost -memories, were spent with the birds. The yaffle, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P212"></a>212}</span> -nightjar, and turtle-dove were the most characteristic -species. Wolmer is indeed the metropolis of the -turtle-doves, even as Savernake is (or was) that of -the jays and jackdaws. All day long the woods were -full of the low, pleasing sound of their cooing: as -one walked among the pines they constantly rose up -in small flocks from the ground with noisy wines -and as they flew out into some open space to vanish -again in the dark foliage, their wings in the strong -sunlight often looked white as silver. But the only -native species I wish to speak of is the teal as I -found it a little over five years ago. In Wolmer these -pretty entertaining little ducks have bred uninterruptedly -for centuries, but I greatly fear that the -changes now in progress—the increase of the -population, building, the large number of troops kept -close by, and perhaps, too, the slow drying up of -the marshy pools—will cause them to forsake their -ancient haunts. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Teal -</span> -</p> - -<p> -By chance I very soon discovered their choicest -breeding-place, not far from that dome-shaped, -fir-crowned hill which was my principal landmark. This -was a boggy place, thirty or forty acres in extent -surrounded by trees and overgrown with marsh -weeds and grasses, and in places with rushes. Cotton -grass grew in the drier parts, and the tufts nodding -in the wind looked at a distance like silvery white -flowers. At one end of the marsh there were clumps -of willow and alder, where the reed-bunting was -breeding and the grasshopper warbler uttered his -continuous whirring sound, which seemed to accord -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P213"></a>213}</span> -with the singing of the wind in the pines. At the -other end there was open water with patches of rushes -growing in it; and here at the water's edge, shaded -by a small fir, I composed myself on a bed of heather -to watch the birds. -</p> - -<p> -The inquisitive moor-hens were the first to appear, -uttering from time to time their sharp, loud protest. -Their suspicion lessened by degrees, but was never -wholly laid aside; and one bird, slyly leaving the -water, made a wide circuit and approached me -through the trees in order to get a better view of -me. A sudden movement on my part, when he was -only three yards from me, gave him a terrible fright. -Mallards showed themselves at intervals, swimming -into the open water, or rising a few yards above the -rushes, then dropping out of sight again. Where the -rushes grew thin and scattered, ducklings appeared, -swimming one behind the other, busily engaged in -snatching insects from the surface. By-and-by a -pair of teal rose up, flew straight towards me, and -dropped into the open water within eighteen yards of -where I sat. They were greatly excited, and no sooner -touched the water than they began calling loudly; -then, from various points, others rose and hurried to -join them, and in a few moments there were eleven, -all disporting themselves on the water at that short -distance. Teal are always tamer than ducks of other -kinds, but the tameness of these Wolmer birds was -astonishing and very delightful. For a few moments -I imagined they were excited at my presence, but it -very soon appeared that they were entirely absorbed -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P214"></a>214}</span> -in their own affairs and cared nothing about me. -What a wonderfully lively, passionate, variable, and -even ridiculous little creature the teal is! Compared -with his great relations—swans, geese, and the bigger -ducks—he is like a monkey or squirrel among stately -bovine animals. Now the teal have a world-wide -range, being found in all climates, and are of many -species; they are, moreover, variable in plumage, -some species having an exceedingly rich and -beautiful colouring; but wherever found, and however -different in colour, they are much the same in -disposition—they are loquacious, excitable, violent -in their affections beyond other ducks, and, albeit -highly intelligent, more fearless than other birds -habitually persecuted by man. A sedate teal is -as rare as a sober-coloured humming-bird. The teal -is also of so social a temper that even in the height -of the breeding season he is accustomed to meet his -fellows at little gatherings. A curious thing is that -at these meetings they do not, like most social birds, -fall into one mind, and comport themselves in an -orderly, disciplined manner, all being moved by -one contagious impulse. On the contrary, each bird -appears to have an impulse of his own, and to follow -it without regard to what his fellows may be doing. -One must have his bath, another his frolic; one falls -to courting, another to quarrelling, or even fighting, -and so on, and the result is a lively splashing, -confused performance, which is amusing to see. It was -an exhibition of this kind which I was so fortunate -as to witness at the Wolmer pond. The body-jerking -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P215"></a>215}</span> -antics and rich, varied plumage of the drakes gave -them a singular as well as a beautiful appearance; -and as they dashed and splashed about, sometimes -not more than fourteen yards from me, their motions -were accompanied by all the cries and calls they -have—their loud call, which is a bright and lively -sound; chatterings and little, sharp, exclamatory -notes; a long trill, somewhat metallic or bell-like; -and a sharp, nasal cry, rapidly reiterated several -times, like a laugh. -</p> - -<p> -After they had worked off their excitement and -finished their fun they broke up into pairs and threes, -and went off in various directions, and I saw no more -of them. -</p> - -<p> -It was not until the sun had set that a snipe -appeared. First one rose from the marsh and began -to play over it in the usual manner, then another -rose to keep him company, and finally a third. -Most of the time they hovered with their breasts -towards me, and seen through my glass against the -pale luminous sky, their round, stout bodies, long -bills, and short, rapidly vibrating wings, gave -them the appearance of gigantic insects rather -than birds. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Boys in the forest -</span> -</p> - -<p> -At length, tired of watching them, I stretched -myself out in the ling, but continued listening, and -while thus occupied an amusing incident occurred. -A flock of eighteen mallards rose up with a startled -cry from the marsh at a distance, and after flying -once or twice round, dropped down again. Then the -sound of crackling branches and of voices talking -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P216"></a>216}</span> -became audible advancing round the marsh towards -me. It was the first human sound I had heard that -day at that spot. Then the sounds ceased, and after -a couple of minutes of silence I glanced round in -the direction they had proceeded from, and beheld -a curious sight. Three boys, one about twelve years -old, the others smaller, were grouped together on -the edge of the pool, gazing fixedly across the water -at me. They had taken me for a corpse, or an escaped -criminal, or some such dreadful object, lying there -in the depth of the forest. The biggest boy had -dropped on to one knee among the rough heather, -while the others, standing on either side, were -resting their hands on his shoulders. Seen thus, in -their loose, threadbare, grey clothes and caps, struck -motionless, their white, scared faces, parted lips, and -wildly staring eyes turned to me, they were like a -group cut in stone. I laughed and waved my hand -to them, whereupon their faces relaxed, and they -immediately dropped into natural attitudes. Very -soon they moved away among the trees, but after -eight or ten minutes they reappeared near me, and -finally, from motives of curiosity, came uninvited to -my side. They proved to be very good specimens -of the boy naturalist; thorough little outlaws, with -keen senses, and the passion for wildness strong in -them. They told me that when they went bird-nesting -they made a day of it, taking bread and cheese -in their pockets, and not returning till the evening. -For an hour we talked in the fading light of day on -the wild creatures in the forest, until we could no -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P217"></a>217}</span> -longer endure the cloud of gnats that had gathered -round us. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -About three years after the visit to Wolmer I -made the acquaintance of a native of Selborne, -whose father had taken part as a lad in the famous -"Selborne mob," and who confirmed the story I -had heard about the horn-blower, whose name was -Newland. He had been a soldier in his early -manhood before he returned to his native village and -married the widow who bore him so many children. -It was quite true that he had died at home, in bed, -and what was more, he added, he was buried just -between the church porch and the yew, where he was -all by himself. How he came to be buried there he -did not know. -</p> - -<p> -Lately, in October 1902, I heard the finish of the -story. I found an old woman, a widow named -Garnett, an elder sister of the woman at Wolmer -Forest. She is eighty years old, but was not born -until a year or two after the "Selborne mob" events, -which fixes the date of that outbreak about the -year 1820. She has a brother, now in a workhouse, -about two years older than herself, who was a babe -in arms at that time. When Newland was at last -captured and sent to Winchester, his poor wife, with -her baby in her arms, set out on foot to visit him in -gaol. It was a long tramp for her thus burdened, and -it was also in the depth of one of the coldest winters -ever known. She started early, but did not get to -her destination until the following morning, and not -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P218"></a>218}</span> -without suffering a fresh misfortune by the way. -Before dawn, when the cold was most intense, while -walking over Winchester Hill, her baby's nose was -frozen; and though everything proper was done -when she arrived at the houses, it never got quite -right. His injured nose, which turns to a dark-blue -colour and causes him great suffering in cold weather, -has been a trouble and misery to him all his life long. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Story of the horn-blower -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Newland, we know, was forgiven and returned to -spend the rest of his life in his village, where he died -at last of sheer old age, passing very quietly away -after receiving the sacrament from the vicar, and in -the presence of his faithful old wife and his children -and grandchildren. -</p> - -<p> -After he was dead, two of his children—my informant, -and that brother who as a babe had travelled -to Winchester in his mother's arms in cold weather—talked -together about him and his life, and of all he -had suffered and of his goodness, and in both their -minds there was one idea, an anxious wish that his -descendants should not allow him to go out of memory. -And there was no way known to them to keep him -in mind except by burying him in some spot by -himself, where his mound would be alone and apart. -Finally, brother and sister, plucking up courage, -went to the vicar, the well-remembered Mr. Parsons, -who built the new vicarage and the church school, -and begged him to let them bury their father by the -yew tree near the porch, and he good-naturedly -consented. -</p> - -<p> -That was how Newland came to be buried at that -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P219"></a>219}</span> -spot; but before many days the vicar went to them -in a great state of mind, and said that he had made a -terrible mistake, that he had done wrong in consenting -to the grave being made there, and that their -father must be taken up and placed at some other -spot in the churchyard. They were grieved at this, -but could say nothing. But for some reason the -removal never took place, and in time the son and -daughter themselves began to regret that they had -buried their father there where they could never -keep the mound green and fresh. People going in -or coming out of church on dark evenings stumbled -or kicked their boots against it, or when they stood -there talking to each other they would rest a foot on -it, and romping children sat on it, so that it always -had a ragged, unkept appearance, do what they would. -</p> - -<p> -It is certainly an unsightly mound. It would be -better to do away with it, and to substitute a small -memorial stone with a suitable inscription placed -level with the turf. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P220"></a>220}</span></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XI -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -The Hampshire people—Racial differences in neighbouring -counties—A neglected subject—Inhabitants of towns—Gentry -and peasantry—Four distinct types—The common -blonde type—Lean women—Deleterious effects of -tea-drinking—A shepherd's testimony—A mixed race—The -Anglo-Saxon—Case of reversion of type—Un-Saxon -character of the British—Dark-eyed Hampshire people—Racial -feeling with regard to eye-colours—The Iberian type—Its -persistence—Character of the small dark man—Dark and -blonde children—A dark village child. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The history of the horn-blower and his old -wife, and their still living aged children, serves -to remind me that this book, which contains -so much about all sorts of creatures and forms -of life, from spiders and flies to birds and beasts, -and from red alga on gravestones to oaks and yews, -has so far had almost nothing to say about our own -species—of that variety which inhabits Hampshire. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Racial differences -</span> -</p> - -<p> -If the critical reader asks what is here meant by -"variety," what should I answer him? On going -directly from any other district in southern -England to the central parts of Hampshire one is sensible -of a difference in the people. One is still in southern -England, and the peasantry, like the atmosphere, -climate, soil, the quiet but verdurous and varied -scenery, are more or less like those of other -neighbouring counties—Surrey, Sussex, Kent, Berkshire, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P221"></a>221}</span> -Wilts, and Dorset. In general appearance, at all -events, the people are much the same; and the -dialect, where any survives, and even the quality -of the voices, closely resemble those in adjoining -counties. Nevertheless there is a difference; even the -hasty seers who are almost without the faculty of -observation are vaguely cognisant of it, though they -would not be able to say what it consisted in. -Probably it would puzzle anyone to say wherein -Hampshire differed from all the counties named, since -each has something individual; therefore it would -be better to compare Hampshire with some one -county near it, or with a group of neighbouring -counties in which some family resemblance is -traceable. Somerset, Devon, Wilts, and Dorset—these -answer the description, and I leave out Cornwall -only because its people are unknown to me. The four -named have seemed to me the most interesting -counties in southern England; but if I were to -make them five by adding Hampshire, the verdict -of nine persons out of ten, all equally well acquainted -with the five, would probably be that it was the least -interesting. They would probably say that the people -of Hampshire were less good-looking, that they had -less red colour in their skins, less pure colour in their -eyes; that they had less energy, if not less -intelligence, or at all events were less lively, and had -less humour. -</p> - -<p> -These differences between the inhabitants of -neighbouring and of adjoining counties are doubtless in -some measure due to local conditions, of soil, climate, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P222"></a>222}</span> -food, customs, and so on, acting for long generations -on a stay-at-home people: but the main differences -are undoubtedly racial; and here we are on a subject -in which we poor ordinary folk who want to know -are like sheep wandering shepherdless in some -wilderness, bleating in vain for guidance in a maze of -fleece-tearing brambles. It is true that the -ethnologists and anthropologists triumphantly point out -that the Jute type of man may be recognised in the -Isle of Wight, and in a less degree even in the Meon -district; for the rest, with a wave of the hand to -indicate the northern half of the county, they say -that all that is or ought to be more or less Anglo-Saxon. -That's all; since, as they tell us, the affinities -of the South Hampshire people, of the New Forest -district especially, have not yet been worked out. -Not being an anthropologist I can't help them; and -am even inclined to think that they have left undone -some of the things which they ought to have done. -The complaint was made in a former chapter that -we had no monograph on fleas to help us; it may -be made, too, with regard to the human race in -Hampshire. The most that one can do in such a -case, since man cannot be excluded from the subjects -which concern the naturalist, is to record one's own -poor little unscientific observations, and let them go -for what they are worth. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Gentry and peasantry -</span> -</p> - -<p> -There is little profit in looking at the townspeople. -The big coast towns have a population quite as -heterogeneous as that of the metropolis; even in a -comparatively small rural inland town, like Winchester, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P223"></a>223}</span> -one would be puzzled to say what the chief characteristics -of the people were. You may feel in a vague -way that they are unlike the people of, say, -Guildford, or Canterbury, or Reading, or Dorchester, -but the variety in forms and faces is too great to -allow of any definite idea. The only time when the -people even in a town can be studied to advantage -in places like Winchester, Andover, etc., is on a -market day, or on a Saturday afternoon, when the -villagers come in to do their marketing. I have said, -in writing of Somerset and its people, that the gentry, -the landowners, and the wealthy residents generally, -are always in a sense foreigners. The man may bear -a name which has been for many generations in a -county, but he is never racially one with the peasant; -and, as John Bright once said, it is the people who -live in cottages that make the nation. His parents -and his grandparents and his ancestors for centuries -have been mixing their blood with the blood of -outsiders. It is well always to bear this in mind, and -in the market-place or the High Street of the country -town to see the carriage people, the gentry, and the -important ones generally as though one saw them -not, or saw them as shadows, and to fix the -attention on those who in face and carriage and dress -proclaim themselves true natives and children of -the soil. -</p> - -<p> -Even so there will be variety enough—a little -more perhaps than is wanted by the methodic mind -anxious to classify these "insect tribes." But after -a time—a few months or a few years, let us -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P224"></a>224}</span> -say—the observer will perceive that the majority of the -people are divisible into four fairly distinct types, -the minority being composed of intermediate forms -and of nondescripts. There is an enormous disproportion -in the actual numbers of the people of these -distinct types, and it varies greatly in different parts -of the county. Of the Hampshire people it may be -said generally, as we say of the whole nation, that -there are two types—the blonde and the dark; but -in this part of England there are districts where a -larger proportion of dark blood than is common in -England generally has produced a well-marked -intermediate type; and this is one of my four distinct -Hampshire types. I should place it second in -importance, although it comes a very long way after the -first type, which is distinctly blonde. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Common blonde type -</span> -</p> - -<p> -This first most prevalent type, which greatly -outnumbers all the others put together, and probably -includes more than half of the entire population, is -strongest in the north, and extends across the county -from Sussex to Wiltshire. The Hampshire people in -that district are hardly to be distinguished from those -of Berkshire. One can see this best by looking at -the school-children in a number of North Hampshire -and Berkshire villages. In sixty or seventy to a -hundred and fifty children in a village school you -will seldom find as many as a dozen with dark eyes. -</p> - -<p> -As was said in a former chapter, there is very little -beauty or good looks in this people; on the other -hand, there is just as little downright ugliness; they -are mostly on a rather monotonous level, just -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P225"></a>225}</span> -passable in form and features, but with an almost entire -absence of any brightness, physical or mental. Take -the best-looking woman of this most common type—the -description will fit a dozen in any village. She -is of medium height, and has a slightly oval face -(which, being Anglo-Saxon, she ought not to have), -with fairly good features; a nose fairly straight, or -slightly aquiline, and not small; mouth well moulded, -but the lips too thin; chin frequently pointed. Her -hair is invariably brown, without any red or chestnut -colour in it, generally of a dull or dusty hue; -and the eyes are a pale greyish-blue, with small -pupils, and in very many cases a dark mark round -the iris. The deep blue, any pure blue, in fact, from -forget-me-not to ultramarine, is as rare in this -commonest type as warm or bright hair—chestnut, -red, or gold; or as a brilliant skin. The skin is -pallid, or dusky, or dirty-looking. Even healthy -girls in their teens seldom have any colour, and the -exquisite roseate and carmine reds of other counties -are rare indeed. The best-looking girls at the time of -life when they come nearest to being pretty, when -they are just growing into womanhood, have an -unfinished look which is almost pathetic. One gets -the fancy that Nature had meant to make them -nice-looking, and finally becoming dissatisfied with -her work, left them to grow to maturity anyhow. -It is pathetic, because there was little more to be -done—a rosier blush on the cheek, a touch of scarlet -on the lips, a little brightness and elasticity in the -hair, a pencil of sunlight to make the eyes sparkle. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P226"></a>226}</span> -</p> - -<p> -In figure this woman is slim, too narrow across -the hips, too flat in the chest. And she grows thinner -with years. The number of lean, pale women of -this type in Hampshire is very remarkable. You see -them in every village, women that appear almost -fleshless, with a parchment-like skin drawn tight -over the bones of the face, pale-blue, washed-out -eyes, and thin, dead-looking hair. What is the -reason of this leanness? It may be that the women -of this blonde type are more subject to poverty of -blood than others; for the men, though often thin, -are not so excessively thin as the women. Or it may -be the effect of that kind of poison which cottage -women all over the country are becoming increasingly -fond of, and which is having so deleterious an -effect on the people in many counties—the tea they -drink. Poison it certainly is: two or three cups a -day of the black juice which they obtain by boiling -and brewing the coarse Indian teas at a shilling a -pound which they use, would kill me in less than -a week. -</p> - -<p> -Or it may be partly the poison of tea and partly -the bad conditions, especially the want of proper -food, in the villages. One day on the downs near -Winchester I found a shepherd with his flock, a man -of about fifty, and as healthy and strong-looking a -fellow as I have seen in Hampshire. Why was it, -I asked him, that he was the only man of his village -I had seen with the colour of red blood in his -face? why did they look so unwholesome generally? why -were the women so thin, and the children so stunted -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P227"></a>227}</span> -and colourless? He said he didn't know, but thought -that for one thing they did not get enough to eat. -"On the farm where I work," he said, "there are -twelve of us—nine men, all married, and three boys. -My wages are thirteen shillings, with a cottage and -garden; I have no children, and I neither drink nor -smoke, and have not done so for eighteen years. -Yet I find the money is not too much. Of the others, -the eight married men all have children—one has -got six at home: they all smoke, and all make a -practice of spending at least two evenings each -week at the public-house." How, after paying for -beer and tobacco, they could support their families -on the few shillings that remained out of their wages -was a puzzle to him. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A mixed race -</span> -</p> - -<p> -But this is to digress. The prevalent blonde type -I have tried to describe is best seen in the northern -half of the county, but is not so accentuated on -the east, north, and west borders as in the interior -villages. If, as is commonly said, this people is -Anglo-Saxon, it must at some early period have -mixed its blood with that of a distinctly different -race. This may have been the Belgic or Brythonic, -but as shape and face are neither Celtic nor Saxon, -the Brythons must have already been greatly -modified by some older and different race which they, -or the Goidels before them, had conquered and -absorbed. It will be necessary to return to this -point by-and-by. -</p> - -<p> -Side by side with this, in a sense, dim and doubtful -people, you find the unmistakable Saxon, the thick-set, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P228"></a>228}</span> -heavy-looking, round-headed man with blue eyes -and light hair, and heavy drooping mustachios—a -sort of terrestrial walrus who goes erect. He is not -abundant as in Sussex, but is represented in almost -any village, and in these villages he is always like a -bull-dog or bull-terrier among hounds, lurchers, and -many other varieties, including curs of low degree. -Mentally, he is rather a dull dog, at all events deficient -in the finer, more attractive qualities. Leaving aside -the spiritual part, he is a good all-round man, tough -and stubborn, one that the naturalist may have no -secret qualms about in treating as an animal. A -being of strong animal nature, and too often in this -brewer-ridden county a hard drinker. A very large -proportion of the men in rural towns and villages with -blotchy skins and watery or beery eyes are of this type. -Even more offensive than the animality, the mindlessness, -is that flicker of conscious superiority which -lives in their expression. It is, I fancy, a survival -of the old instinctive feeling of a conquering race -amid the conquered. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Reversion of type -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Nature, we know, is everlastingly harking back, -but here in Hampshire I cannot but think that this -type, in spite of its very marked characters, is a -very much muddied and degenerate form. One is -led to this conclusion by occasionally meeting with -an individual whose whole appearance is a -revelation, and strikes the mind with a kind of -astonishment, and one can only exclaim—there is nothing -else to say—Here Nature has at length succeeded in -reproducing the pure unadulterated form! Such a -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P229"></a>229}</span> -type I came upon one summer day on the high downs -east of the Itchen. -</p> - -<p> -He was a shepherd, a young fellow of twenty, -about five feet eight in height, but looking short on -account of his extraordinary breadth of shoulders -and depth of chest. His arms were like a -blacksmith's, and his legs thick, and his big head was -round as a Dutch cheese. He could, I imagined, -have made a breach in the stone wall near which -I found him with his flock, if he had lowered that -hard round head and charged like a rhinoceros. His -hair was light brown, and his face a uniform rosy -brown—in all Hampshire no man nor woman had -I seen so beautiful in colour; and his round, keen, -piercing eyes were of a wonderful blue—"eyes like -the sea." If this poor fellow, washed clean and -clothed becomingly in white flannels, had shown -himself in some great gathering at the Oval or some -such place on some great day, the common people -would have parted on either side to make way for -him, and would have regarded him with a kind of -worship—an impulse to kneel before him. There, -on the downs, his appearance was almost grotesque -in the dress he wore, made of some fabric intended -to last for ever, but now frayed, worn to threads in -places, and generally earth-coloured. A small old -cap, earth-coloured too, covered a portion of his -big, round head, and his ancient, lumpish, cracked -and clouted boots were like the hoofs of some extinct -large sort of horse which he had found fossilised -among the chalk hills. He had but eleven shillings -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P230"></a>230}</span> -a week, and could not afford to spend much on dress. -How he could get enough to eat was a puzzle; he -looked as if he could devour half of one of his muttons -at a meal, washed down with a bucket of beer, -without hurt to his digestion. In appearance he formed -a startling contrast to the people around him: they -were in comparison a worn-out, weary-looking race, -dim-eyed, pale-faced, slow in their movements, as -if they had lost all joy and interest in life. -</p> - -<p> -The sight of him taught me something I could not -get from the books. The intensity of life in his eyes -and whole expression; the rough-hewn face and rude, -powerful form—rude but well balanced—the vigour -in his every movement, enabled me to realise better -than anything that history tells us what those men -who came as strangers to these shores in the fifth -century were really like, and how they could do -what they did. They came, a few at a time, in open -row-boats, with nothing but their rude weapons in -their hands, and by pure muscular force, and because -they were absolutely without fear and without -compassion, and were mentally but little above a herd -of buffaloes, they succeeded in conquering a great -and populous country with centuries of civilisation -behind it. -</p> - -<p> -Talking with him, I was not surprised to find him -a discontented man. He did not want to live in a -town—he seemed not to know just what he wanted, -or having but few words he did not know how to -say it; but his mind was in a state of turmoil and -revolt, and he could only curse the head shepherd, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P231"></a>231}</span> -the bailiff, the farmer, and, to finish up, the lord of -the manor. Probably he soon cast away his crook, -and went off in search of some distant place, where -he would be permitted to discharge the energy that -seethed and bubbled in him—perhaps to bite the -dust on the African veldt. -</p> - -<p> -This, then, is one of the main facts to be noted in -the blonde Hampshire peasant—the great contrast -between the small minority of persons of the -Anglo-Saxon and of the prevalent type. It was long ago -shown by Huxley that the English people generally -are not Saxons in the shape of the head, and in all -Saxon England the divergence has perhaps been -greatest in this southern county. The oval-faced -type, as I have said, is less pronounced as we approach -the borders of Berkshire, and although the difference -is not very great, it is quite perceptible; the -Berkshire people are rather nearer to the common -modified Saxon type of Oxfordshire and the Midlands -generally. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Dark Hampshire people -</span> -</p> - -<p> -In the southern half of Hampshire the dark-eyed, -black-haired people are almost as common as the -blonde, and in some localities they are actually in a -majority. Visitors to the New Forest district often -express astonishment at the darkness and "foreign" -appearance of the people, and they sometimes form -the mistaken idea that it is due to a strong element -of gipsy blood. The darkest Hampshire peasant is -always in shape of head and face the farthest removed -from the gipsy type. -</p> - -<p> -Among the dark people there are two distinct -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P232"></a>232}</span> -types, as there are two in the blonde, and it will -be understood that I only mean two that are, in a -measure, fixed and easily recognised types; for it -must always be borne in mind that, outside of these -distinctive forms, there is a heterogeneous crowd of -persons of all shades and shapes of face and of -great variety in features. These two dark types are: -First, the small, narrow-headed person of brown -skin, crow-black hair, and black eyes; of this rarest -and most interesting type I shall speak last. Second, -the person of average height, slightly oval face, and -dark eyes and hair. The accompanying portrait of -a young woman in a village on the Test is a good -specimen of this type. Now we find that this -dark-haired, dark-eyed, and often dark-skinned people -are in stature, figure, shape of head, and features -exactly like the oval-faced blonde people already -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P233"></a>233}</span> -described. They are, light and dark, an intermediate -type, and we can only say that they are one and the -same people, the outcome of a long-mixed race which -has crystallised in this form unlike any of its originals; -that the difference in colour is due to the fact that -blue and black in the iris and black and brown in -the hair very seldom mix, these colours being, as has -been said, "mutually exclusive." They persist when -everything else, down to the bony framework, has -been modified and the original racial characters -obliterated. Nevertheless, we see that these mutually -exclusive colours do mix in some individuals both in -the eyes and hair. In the grey-blue iris it appears as -a very slight pigmentation, in most cases round the -pupil, but in the hair it is more marked. Many, -perhaps a majority, of the dark-eyed people we are -now considering have some warm brown colour in -their black hair; in members of the same family you -will often find raven-black hair and brownish-black -hair; and sometimes in three brothers or sisters you -will find the two original colours, black and brown, and -the intermediate very dark or brownish-black hair. -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-232"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-232.jpg" alt="A HAMPSHIRE GIRL" /> -<br /> -A HAMPSHIRE GIRL -</p> - -<p> -The brunette of this oval-faced type is also, as we -have seen, deficient in colour, but, as a rule, she is -more attractive than her light-eyed sister. This may -be due to the appearance of a greater intensity of -life in the dark eye; but it is also probable that there -is almost always some difference in disposition, that -black or dark pigment is correlated with a warmer, -quicker, more sympathetic nature. The anthropologists -tell us that very slight differences in intensity -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P234"></a>234}</span> -of pigmentation may correspond to relatively very -great constitutional differences. One fact in reference -to dark- and light-coloured people which I came upon -in Hampshire, struck me as exceedingly curious, and -has suggested the question: Is there in us, or in some -of us, very deep down, and buried out of sight, but -still occasionally coming to life and to the surface, -an ancient feeling of repulsion or racial antipathy -between black and blonde? Are there mental characteristics, -too, that are "mutually exclusive"? Dark -and light are mixed in very many of us, but, as -Huxley has said, the constituents do not always rightly -mix: as a rule, one side is strongest. With the dark -side strongest in me, I search myself, and the only -evidence I find of such a feeling is an ineradicable -dislike of the shallow frosty blue eye: it makes me -shiver, and seems to indicate a cold, petty, spiteful, -and false nature. This may be merely a fancy or -association, the colour resembling that of the frosty -sky in winter. In many others the feeling appears -to be more definite. I know blue-eyed persons of -culture, liberal-minded, religious, charitable, lovers -of all men, who declare that they cannot regard -dark-eyed persons as being on the same level, morally, -with the blue-eyed, and that they cannot dissociate -black eyes from wickedness. This, too, may be fancy -or association. But here in Hampshire I have been -startled at some things I have heard spoken by -dark-eyed people about blondes. Not of the mitigated -Hampshire blonde, with that dimness in the colour -of his skin, and eyes, and hair, but of the more vivid -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P235"></a>235}</span> -type with brighter blue eyes, and brighter or more -fiery hair, and the light skin to match. What I have -heard was to this effect: -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps it will be all right in the end—we hope -it will: he says he will marry her and give her a -home. But you never know where you are with a -man of that colour—I'll believe it when I see it." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, he seems all right, and speaks well, and -promises to pay the money. But look at the colour -of his eyes! No, I can't trust him." -</p> - -<p> -"He's a very nice person, I have no doubt, but -his eyes and hair are enough for me," etc., etc. -</p> - -<p> -Even this may be merely the effect of that enmity -or suspicion with which the stranger, or "foreigner," -as he is called, is often regarded in rural districts. -The person from another county, or from a distance, -unrelated to anyone in the community, is always -a foreigner, and the foreign taint may descend to -the children: may it not be that in Hampshire anyone -with bright colour in eyes, hair, and skin is also -by association regarded as a foreigner? -</p> - -<p> -It remains to speak of the last of the four distinct -types, the least common and most interesting of -all—the small, narrow-headed man with very black -hair, black eyes, and brown skin. -</p> - -<p> -We are deeply indebted to the anthropologists -who have, so to speak, torn up the books of history, -and are re-telling the story of man on earth: we -admire them for their patient industry, and because -they have gone bravely on with their self-appointed -task, one peculiarly difficult in this land of many -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P236"></a>236}</span> -mixed races, heedless of the scoffs of the learned or -of those who derive their learning from books alone, -and mock at men whose documents are "bones and -skins." But we sometimes see that they (the -anthropologists) have not yet wholly emancipated -themselves from the old written falsehoods when they -tell us, as they frequently do, that the Iberian in -this country survives only in the west and the north. -They refer to the small, swarthy Welshman; to the -so-called "black Celt" in Ireland, west of the -Shannon; to the small black Yorkshireman of the Dales, -and to the small black Highlander; and the explanation -is that in these localities remnants of the dark -men of the Iberian race who inhabited Britain in the -Neolithic period, were never absorbed by the conquerors; -that, in fact, like the small existing herds -of indigenous white cattle, they have preserved -their peculiar physical character down to the present -time by remaining unmixed with the surrounding -blue-eyed people. But this type is not confined to -these isolated spots in the west and north; it is -found here, there, and everywhere, especially in the -southern counties of England: you cannot go about -among the peasants of Hampshire, Wiltshire, and -Dorset without meeting examples of it, and here -at all events, it cannot be said that the ancient -British people were not absorbed. They, the remnant -that escaped extermination, were absorbed by the -blue-eyed, broad-headed, tall men, the Goidels we -suppose, who occupied the country at the beginning -of the Bronze Age; and the absorbers were in their -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P237"></a>237}</span> -turn absorbed by another blue-eyed race; and these -by still another or by others. The only explanation -appears to be that this type is persistent beyond -all others, and that a very little black blood, after -being mixed and re-mixed with blonde for centuries, -even for hundreds of generations, may, whenever -the right conditions occur, reproduce the vanished -type in its original form. -</p> - -<p> -Time brings about its revenges in many strange -ways: we see that there is a continuous and an -increasing migration from Wales and the Highlands -into all the big towns in England, and this large -and growing Celtic element will undoubtedly have -a great effect on the population in time, making it -less Saxon and more Celtic than it has been these -thousand years past and upwards. But in all the -people, Celtic, Anglo-Saxon, Dane, or what not, -there is that older constituent—infinitely older and -perhaps infinitely more persistent; and this too, -albeit in a subtler way, may be working in us to -recover its long-lost world. That it has gone far in -this direction in Spain, where the blue eye is -threatened with extinction, and in the greater portion, -if not all, of France, there appears to be some -evidence to show. Here, where the Neolithic people were -more nearly exterminated and the remnant more -completely absorbed, the return may be very -much slower. But when we find, as we do in -Hampshire and many other counties, that this -constituent in the blood of the people, after mixture for -untold ages with so many other bloods of so many -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P238"></a>238}</span> -conquering races, has not only been potent to modify -the entire population, but is able to reproduce the -old type in its pristine purity; and when we almost -invariably find that these ancients born again are -better men than those in whom other racial characters -predominate—more intelligent, versatile, adaptive, -temperate, and usually tougher and longer lived, -it becomes possible to believe that in the remote -future—there are thousands of years for this little -black leaven to work—these islands will once more be -inhabited by a race of men of the Neolithic type. -</p> - -<p> -In speaking of the character, physical and mental, -of the men of distinctly Iberian type, I must confess -that I write only from my own observation, and that -I am hardly justified in founding general statements -on an acquaintance with a very limited number of -persons. My experience is that the men of this type -have, generally speaking, more character than their -neighbours, and are certainly very much more -interesting. In recalling individuals of the peasant -class who have most attracted me, with whom I -have become intimate and in some instances formed -lasting friendships, I find that of twenty-five to -thirty no fewer than nine are of this type. Of this -number four are natives of Hampshire, while the -other five, oddly enough, belong to five different -counties. But I do not judge only from these few -individuals: a rambler about the country who seldom -stays many days in one village or spot cannot become -intimately acquainted with the cottagers. I judge -partly from the few I know well, and partly from a -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P239"></a>239}</span> -very much larger number of individuals I have met -casually or have known slightly. What I am certain -of is that the men of this type, as a rule, differ -mentally as widely as they do physically from persons -of other commoner types. The Iberian, as I know -him in southern and south-western England, is, as -I have said, more intelligent, or at all events, quicker; -his brains are nimbler although perhaps not so retentive -or so practical as the slower Saxon's. Apart -from that point, he has more imagination, -detachment, sympathy—the qualities which attract and -make you glad to know a man and to form a friendship -with him in whatever class he may be. Why is -it, one is sometimes asked, that one can often know -and talk with a Spaniard or Frenchman without any -feeling of class distinction, any consciousness of a -barrier, although the man may be nothing but a -workman, while with English peasants this freedom -and ease between man and man is impossible? It -is possible in the case of the man we are -considering, simply because of those qualities I have -named, which he shares with those of his own race -on the Continent. -</p> - -<p> -I have found that when one member of a family -of mixed light and dark blood is of the distinctly -Iberian type, this one will almost invariably take a -peculiar and in some ways a superior position in -the circle. The woman especially exhibits a liveliness, -humour, and variety rare indeed among persons -born in the peasant class. She entertains the visitor, -or takes the leading part, and her slow-witted sisters -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P240"></a>240}</span> -regard her with a kind of puzzled admiration. They -are sisters, yet unrelated: their very blood differs -in specific gravity, and their bodily differences -correspond to a mental and spiritual unlikeness. In -my intercourse with people in the southern counties -I have sometimes been reminded of Huxley and his -account of his parents contained in a private letter -to Havelock Ellis. His father, he said, was a -fresh-coloured, grey-eyed Warwickshire man. "My mother -came of Wiltshire people. Except for being somewhat -taller than the average type, she was a typical -example of the Iberian variety—dark, thin, rapid in -all her ways, and with the most piercing black eyes -I have seen in anybody's head. Mentally and physically -(except in the matter of the beautiful eyes) I -am a piece of my mother, and except for my stature -... I should do very well for a 'black Celt'—supposed -to be the worst variety of that type." -</p> - -<p> -The contrast between persons of this type and -Saxon or blonde has often seemed to me greatest in -childhood, since the blonde at that period, even in -Hampshire, is apt to be a delicate pink and white -whereas the individual of strongly-marked Iberian -character is very dark from birth. I will, to conclude -this perhaps imprudent chapter, give an instance -in point. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A dark village child -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Walking one day through the small rustic village -of Martyr Worthy, near Winchester, I saw a little -girl of nine or ten sitting on the grass at the side of -the wide green roadway in the middle of the village -engaged in binding flowers round her hat. She was -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P241"></a>241}</span> -slim, and had a thin oval face, dark in colour as any -dark Spanish child, or any French child in the "black -provinces"; and she had, too, the soft melancholy -black eye which is the chief beauty of the Spanish, -and her loose hair was intensely black. Even here -where dark eyes and dark hair are so common, her -darkness was wonderful by contrast with a second -little girl of round, chubby, rosy face, pale-yellowish -hair, and wide-open blue surprised eyes, who stood -by her side watching her at her task. The flowers -were lying in a heap at her side; she had wound a -long slender spray of traveller's joy round her brown -straw hat, and was now weaving in lychnis and -veronica, with other small red and blue blossoms, -to improve her garland. I found to my surprise on -questioning her that she knew the names of the -flowers she had collected. An English village -child, but in that Spanish darkness and beauty, -and in her grace and her pretty occupation, how -very un-English she seemed! -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P242"></a>242}</span></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XII -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -Test and Itchen—Vegetation—Riverside villages—The cottage -by the river—Itchen valley—Blossoming limes—Bird -visitors—Goldfinch—Cirl bunting—Song—Plumage—Three common -river birds—Coots—Moor-hen and nest—Little grebes' -struggles—Male grebe's devotion—Parent coot's wisdom—A -more or less happy family—Dogged little grebes—Grebes -training their young—Fishing birds and fascination. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -There are no more refreshing places in -Hampshire, one might almost say in England, -than the green level valleys of the Test and -Itchen that wind, alternately widening and narrowing, -through the downland country to Southampton -Water. Twin rivers they may be called, flowing at -no great distance apart through the same kind of -country, and closely alike in their general features: -land and water intermixed—greenest water-meadows -and crystal currents that divide and subdivide and -join again, and again separate, forming many a -miniature island and long slip of wet meadow with -streams on either side. At all times refreshing to -the sight and pleasant to dwell by, they are best -</p> - -<p class="poem"> - When it is summer and the green is deep.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> -Greens of darkest bulrushes, tipped with bright -brown panicles, growing in masses where the water -is wide and shallowest; of grey-green graceful reeds -and of tallest reed-mace with dark velvety brown -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P243"></a>243}</span> -spikes; behind them all, bushes and trees—silvery-leafed -willow and poplar, and dark alder, and old -thorns and brambles in tangled masses; and always -in the foreground lighter and brighter sedges, glaucous -green flags, mixed with great hemp agrimony, with -flesh-coloured, white-powdered flowers, and big-leafed -comfrey, and scores of other water and moisture-loving -plants. -</p> - -<p> -Through this vegetation, this infinite variety of -refreshing greens and graceful forms, flow the rapid -rivers, crystal-clear and cold from the white chalk, -a most beautiful water, with floating water-grass in -it—the fascinating <i>Poa fluviatilis</i> which, rooted in -the pebbly bed, looks like green loosened wind-blown -hair swaying and trembling in the ever-crinkled, -swift current. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Test and Itchen -</span> -</p> - -<p> -They are not long rivers—the Test and Itchen—but -long enough for men with unfevered blood in -their veins to find sweet and peaceful homes on their -margins. I think I know quite a dozen villages on -the former stream, and fifteen or sixteen on the -latter, in any one of which I could spend long -years in perfect contentment. There are towns, too, -ancient Romsey and Winchester, and modern hideous -Eastleigh; but the little centres are best to live in. -These are, indeed, among the most characteristic -Hampshire villages; mostly small, with old thatched -cottages, unlike, yet harmonising, irregularly placed -along the roadside; each with its lowly walls -set among gaily coloured flowers; the farm with -its rural sounds and smells, its big horses and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P244"></a>244}</span> -milch-cows led and driven along the quiet streets; -the small ancient church with its low, square tower, -or grey shingled spire; and great trees standing singly -or in groups or rows—oak and elm and ash; and -often some ivy-grown relic of antiquity—ivy, indeed, -everywhere. The charm of these villages that look -as natural and one with the scene as chalk down and -trees and green meadows, and have an air of -immemorial quiet and a human life that is part of -nature's life, unstrenuous, slow and sweet, has not -yet been greatly disturbed. It is not here as in -some parts of Hampshire, and as it is pretty well -everywhere in Surrey, that most favoured county, -the Xanadu of the mighty ones of the money-market, -where they oftenest decree their lordly pleasure-domes. -Those vast red-brick habitations of the -Kubla Khans of the city which stare and glare at -you from all openings in pine woods, across wide -heaths and commons, and from hill-sides and -hill-tops, produce the idea that they were turned out -complete at some stupendous manufactory of houses -at a distance, and sent out by the hundred to be set -up wherever wanted, and where they are almost -always utterly out of keeping with their surroundings, -and consequently a blot on and a disfigurement -of the landscape. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Itchen Valley -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Happily the downland slopes overlooking these -green valleys have so far been neglected by the class -of persons who live in mansions; for the time being -they are ours, and by "ours" I mean all those who -love and reverence this earth. But which of the two -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P245"></a>245}</span> -is best I cannot say. One prefers the Test and another -the Itchen, doubtless because in a matter of this kind -the earth-lover will invariably prefer the spot he -knows most intimately; and for this reason, much -as I love the Test, long as I would linger by it, I -love the Itchen more, having had a closer intimacy -with it. I dare say that some of my friends, old -Wykehamists, who as boys caught their first trout -close by the ancient sacred city and have kept up -their acquaintance with its crystal currents, will laugh -at me for writing as I do. But there are places, as -there are faces, which draw the soul, and with which, -in a little while, one becomes strangely intimate. -</p> - -<p> -The first English cathedral I ever saw was that of -Winchester: that was a long time ago; it was then -and on a few subsequent occasions that I had glimpses -of the river that runs by it. They were like momentary -sights of a beautiful face, caught in passing, of -some person unknown. Then it happened that in -June 1900, cycling Londonwards from Beaulieu and -the coast by Lymington, I came to the valley, and to -a village about half-way between Winchester and -Alresford, on a visit to friends in their summer -fishing retreat. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A riverside cottage -</span> -</p> - -<p> -They had told me about their cottage, which serves -them all the best purposes of a lodge in the vast -wilderness. Fortunately in this case the "boundless -contiguity of shade" of the woods is some little -distance away, on the other side of the ever green -Itchen valley, which, narrowing at this spot, is not -much more than a couple of hundred yards wide. -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P246"></a>246}</span> -A long field's length away from the cottage is the -little ancient, rustic, tree-hidden village. The cottage, -too, is pretty well hidden by trees, and has the reed- -and sedge- and grass-green valley and swift river -before it, and behind and on each side green fields -and old untrimmed hedges with a few old oak trees -growing both in the hedgerows and the fields. There -is also an ancient avenue of limes which leads nowhere -and whose origin is forgotten. The ground under -the trees is overgrown with long grass and nettles -and burdock; nobody comes or goes by it, it is -only used by the cattle, the white and roan and -strawberry shorthorns that graze in the fields and stand in -the shade of the limes on very hot days. Nor is there -any way or path to the cottage; but one must go and -come over the green fields, wet or dry. The avenue -ends just at the point where the gently sloping chalk -down touches the level valley, and the half-hidden, -low-roofed cottage stands just there, with the shadow -of the last two lime trees falling on it at one side. -It was an ideal spot for a nature-lover and an angler -to pitch his tent upon. Here a small plot of ground, -including the end of the lime-tree avenue, was -marked out, a hedge of sweetbriar planted round -it, the cottage erected, and a green lawn made before -it on the river side, and beds of roses planted at -the back. -</p> - -<p> -Nothing more—no gravel walks; no startling -scarlet geraniums, no lobelias, no cinerarias, no -calceolarias, nor other gardeners' abominations to hurt -one's eyes and make one's head ache. And no dog, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P247"></a>247}</span> -nor cat, nor chick, nor child—only the wild birds -to keep one company. They knew how to appreciate -its shelter and solitariness; they were all about it, -and built their nests amid the great green masses of -ivy, honeysuckle, Virginia creeper, rose, and wild -clematis which covered the trellised walls and part -of the red roof with a twelve years' luxuriant growth. -To this delectable spot I returned on 21st July to -see the changeful summer of 1900 out, my friends -having gone north and left me their cottage for -a habitation. -</p> - -<p> -"There is the wind on the heath, brother," and -one heartily agrees with the half-mythical Petulengro -that it is a very good thing; it had, indeed, been -blowing off and on in my face for many months -past; and from shadeless heaths and windy downs, -and last of all, from the intolerable heat and dusty -desolation of London in mid-July, it was a delightful -change to this valley. -</p> - -<p> -During the very hot days that followed it was -pleasure enough to sit in the shade of the limes -most of the day; there was coolness, silence, melody, -fragrance; and, always before me, the sight of that -moist green valley, which made one cool simply to -look at it, and never wholly lost its novelty. The -grass and herbage grow so luxuriantly in the -water-meadows that the cows grazing there were -half-hidden in their depth; and the green was tinged with -the purple of seeding grasses, and red of dock and -sorrel, and was everywhere splashed with creamy -white of meadow-sweet. The channels of the swift -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P248"></a>248}</span> -many-channelled river were fringed with the livelier -green of sedges and reed-mace, and darkest green of -bulrushes, and restful grey of reeds not yet in flower. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Bird visitors -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The old limes were now in their fullest bloom; and -the hotter the day the greater the fragrance, the -flower, unlike the woodbine and sweetbriar, needing -no dew nor rain to bring out its deliciousness. To me, -sitting there, it was at the same time a bath and -atmosphere of sweetness, but it was very much more -than that to all the honey-eating insects in the -neighbourhood. Their murmur was loud all day till dark, -and from the lower branches that touched the grass -with leaf and flower to their very tops the trees were -peopled with tens and with hundreds of thousands -of bees. Where they all came from was a mystery; -somewhere there should be a great harvest of honey -and wax as a result of all this noise and activity. It -was a soothing noise, according with an idle man's -mood in the July weather; and it harmonised with, -forming, so to speak, an appropriate background -to, the various distinct and individual sounds of -bird life. -</p> - -<p> -The birds were many, and the tree under which -I sat was their favourite resting-place; for not only -was it the largest of the limes, but it was the last of -the row, and overlooked the valley, so that when -they flew across from the wood on the other side -they mostly came to it. It was a very noble tree, -eighteen feet in circumference near the ground; at -about twenty feet from the root, the trunk divided -into two central boles and several of lesser size, and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P249"></a>249}</span> -these all threw out long horizontal and drooping -branches, the lowest of which feathered down to the -grass. One sat as in a vast pavilion, and looked up -to a height of sixty or seventy feet through wide -spaces of shadow and green sunlight, and sunlit -golden-green foliage and honey-coloured blossom, -contrasting with brown branches and with masses -of darkest mistletoe. -</p> - -<p> -Among the constant succession of bird visitors to -the tree above me were the three pigeons—ring-dove, -stock-dove, and turtle-dove; finches, tree-warblers, -tits of four species, and the wren, tree-creeper, -nuthatch, and many more. The best vocalists had -ceased singing; the last nightingale I had heard -utter its full song was in the oak woods of Beaulieu -on 27th June: and now all the tree-warblers, and -with them chaffinch, thrush, blackbird, and robin, -had become silent. The wren was the leading -songster, beginning his bright music at four o'clock in -the morning, and the others, still in song, that -visited me were the greenfinch, goldfinch, swallow, -dunnock, and cirl bunting. From my seat I could also -hear the songs in the valley of the reed and sedge -warblers, reed-bunting, and grasshopper-warbler. -These, and the polyglot starling, and cooing and -crooning doves, made the last days of July at this -spot seem not the silent season we are accustomed -to call it. -</p> - -<p> -Of these singers the goldfinch was the most pleasing. -The bird that sang near me had assisted in rearing a -brood in a nest on a low branch a few yards away, but -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P250"></a>250}</span> -he still returned from the fields at intervals to sing; -and seen, as I now saw him a dozen times a day, -perched among the lime leaves and blossoms at the -end of a slender bough, in his black and gold and -crimson livery, he was by far the prettiest of my -feathered visitors. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Cirl bunting -</span> -</p> - -<p> -But the cirl bunting, the inferior singer, interested -me most, for I am somewhat partial to the buntings, -and he is the best of them, and the one I knew least -about from personal observation. -</p> - -<p> -On my way hither at the end of June, somewhere -between Romsey and Winchester, a cock cirl bunting -in fine plumage flew up before me and perched on -the wire of a roadside fence. It was a welcome -encounter, and, alighting, I stood for some time -watching him. I did not know that I was in a -district where this pretty species is more numerous -than in any other place in England—as common, -in fact, as the universal yellowhammer, and -commoner than the more local corn-bunting. Here in -July and August, in the course of an afternoon's -walk, in any place where there are trees and grass -fields, one can count on hearing half a dozen birds -sing, every one of them probably the parent of a -nestful of young. For this is the cirl bunting's -pleasant habit. He assists in feeding and safeguarding -the young, even as other songsters do who cease -singing when this burden is laid upon them; but he -is a bird of placid disposition, and takes his task -more quietly than most; and, after returning from -the fields with several grasshoppers in his throat and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P251"></a>251}</span> -beak and feeding his fledglings, he takes a rest, and -at intervals in the day flies to his favourite tree, -and repeats his blithe little song half a dozen times. -</p> - -<p> -The song is not quite accurately described in the -standard ornithological works as exactly like that -of the yellowhammer, only without the thin, -drawn-out note at the end, and therefore inferior—the -little bit of bread, but without the cheese. It -certainly resembles the yellowhammer's song, being -a short note, a musical chirp, rapidly repeated -several times. But the yellowhammer varies his -song as to its time, the notes being sometimes fast -and sometimes slow. The cirl's song is always the -same in this respect, and is always a more rapid song -than that of the other species. So rapid is it that, -heard at a distance, it acquires almost the character -of a long trill. In quality, too, it is the better -song—clearer, brighter, brisker—and it carries farther; on -still mornings I could hear one bird's song very -distinctly at a distance of two hundred and fifty -yards. The only good description of the cirl bunting's -song—as well as the best general account of the bird's -habits—which I have found, is in J. C. Bellamy's -<i>Natural History of South Devon</i> (Plymouth and -London), 1839, probably a forgotten book. -</p> - -<p> -The best singer among the British buntings, he -is also to my mind the prettiest bird. When he is -described as black and brown, and lemon and sulphur-yellow, -and olive and lavender-grey, and chestnut-red, -we are apt to think that the effect of so many -colours thrown upon his small body cannot be very -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P252"></a>252}</span> -pleasing. But it is not so; these various colours -are so harmoniously disposed, and have, in the -lighter and brighter hues in the living bird, such a -flower-like freshness and delicacy, that the effect is -really charming. -</p> - -<p> -When, in June, I first visited the cottage, my host -took me into his dressing-room, and from it we -watched a pair of cirl buntings bring food to their -young in a nest in a small cypress standing just five -yards from the window. The young birds were in -the pinfeather stage, but they were unfortunately -taken a very few days later by a rat, or stoat, or by -that winged nest-robber the jackdaw, whose small -cunning grey eyes are able to see into so many -hidden things. -</p> - -<p> -The birds themselves did not grieve overlong at -their loss: the day after the nest was robbed the -cock was heard singing—and he continued to sing -every day from his favourite tree, an old black poplar -growing outside the sweetbriar hedge in front of -the cottage. -</p> - -<p> -About this bird of a brave and cheerful disposition, -more will have to be said in the next chapter. -It is, or was, my desire to describe events in the -valley at this changeful period from late July to -October in the order of their occurrence, but in -all the rest of the present chapter, which will be -given to the river birds exclusively, the order -must be broken. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Water-birds -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Undoubtedly the three commonest water-birds -inhabiting inland waters throughout England are -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P253"></a>253}</span> -the coot, moor-hen, and dabchick, or little grebe; -and on account of their abundance and general -distribution they are almost as familiar as our -domestic birds. Yet one never grows tired of seeing -and hearing them, as we do of noting the actions -of other species that inhabit the same places; and -the reason for this—a very odd reason it seems!—is -because these three common birds, members of -two orders which the modern scientific zoologist -has set down among the lowest, and therefore, as -he tells us, most stupid, of the feathered inhabitants -of the globe, do actually exhibit a quicker intelligence -and greater variety in their actions and habits -than the species which are accounted their superiors. -</p> - -<p> -The coot is not so abundant as the other two; -also he is less varied in his colour, and less lively in -his motions, and consequently attracts us less. The -moor-hen is the most engaging, as well as the -commonest—a bird concerning which more entertaining -matter has been related in our natural histories than -of any other native species. And I now saw a -great deal of him, and of the other two as well. -From the cottage windows, and from the lawn -outside, one looked upon the main current of the river, -and there were the birds always in sight; and when -not looking one could hear them. Without paying -particular attention to them their presence in the -river was a constant source of interest and amusement. -</p> - -<p> -At one spot, where the stream made a slight bend, -the floating water-weeds brought down by the current -were always being caught by scattered bulrushes -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P254"></a>254}</span> -growing a few feet from the edge; the arrested weeds -formed a minute group of islets, and on these -convenient little refuges and resting-places in the -waterway, a dozen or more of the birds could be seen at -most times. The old coots would stand on the -floating weeds and preen and preen their plumage -by the hour. They were like mermaids, for ever -combing out their locks, and had the clear stream -for a mirror. The dull-brown, white-breasted young -coots, now fully grown, would meanwhile swim -about picking up their own food. The moor-hens -were with them, preening and feeding, and one had -its nest there. It was a very big conspicuous nest, -built up on a bunch of floating weeds, and formed, -when the bird was sitting on its eggs, a pretty and -curious object; for every day fresh bright-green -sedge leaves were plucked and woven round it, and -on that high bright-green nest, as on a throne, the -bird sat, and when I went near the edge of the water, -she (or he) would flirt her tail to display the -snowy-white under-feathers, and nod her head, and stand -up as if to display her pretty green legs, so as to let -me see and admire all her colours; and finally, not -being at all shy, she would settle quietly down again. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Little grebes -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The little grebes, too, had chosen that spot to build -on. Poor little grebes! how they worked and sat, -and built and sat again, all the summer long. And -all along the river it was the same thing—the grebes -industriously making their nests, and trying ever so -hard to hatch their eggs; and then at intervals of -a few days the ruthless water-keeper would come by -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P255"></a>255}</span> -with his long fatal pole to dash their hopes. For -whenever he saw a suspicious-looking bunch of dead -floating weeds which might be a grebe's nest, down -would come the end of the pole on it, and the eggs -would be spilt out of the wet bed, and rolled down -by the swift water to the sea. And then the birds -would cheerfully set to work again at the very same -spot: but it was never easy to tell which bunch of -wet weeds their eggs were hidden in. Watching -with a glass I could see the hen on her eggs, but if -any person approached she would hastily pull the -wet weeds from the edge over them, and slip into -the water, diving and going away to some distance. -While the female sat the male was always busy, -diving and catching little fishes; he would dive down -in one spot, and suddenly pop up a couple of yards -away, right among the coots and moor-hens. This -Jack-in-the-box action on his part never upset their -nerves. They took not the slightest notice of him, -and were altogether a more or less, happy family, -all very tolerant of each other's little eccentricities. -</p> - -<p> -The little grebe fished for himself and for his sitting -mate; he never seemed so happy and proud as when -he was swimming to her, patiently sitting on her wet -nest, with a little silvery fish in his beak. He also -fished for old decaying weeds, which he fetched up -from the bottom to add to the nest. Whenever he -popped up among or near the other birds with an old -rag of a weed in his beak, one or two of the grown-up -young coots would try to take it from him; and -seeing them gaining on him he would dive down to -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P256"></a>256}</span> -come up in another place, still clinging to the old -rag half a yard long; and again the chase would be -renewed, and again he would dive; until at last, -after many narrow escapes and much strategy, the -nest would be gained, and the sitting bird would -take the weed from him and draw it up and tuck it -round her, pleased with his devotedness, and at the -sight of his triumph over the coots. As a rule, -after giving her something—a little fish, or a wet -weed to pull up and make herself comfortable with—they -would join their voices in that long trilling -cry of theirs, like a metallic, musical-sounding -policeman's rattle. -</p> - -<p> -It was not in a mere frolicsome spirit that the -young coots hunted the dabchick with his weed, but -rather, as I imagine, because the white succulent stems -of aquatic plants growing deep in the water are -their favourite food; they are accustomed to have -it dived for by their parents and brought up to -them, and they never appear to get enough to satisfy -them; but when they are big, and their parents -refuse to slave for them, they seem to want to make -the little grebes their fishers for succulent stems. -</p> - -<p> -One day in August 1899, I witnessed a pretty little -bird-comedy at the Pen Ponds, in Richmond Park, -which seemed to throw a strong light on the inner -or domestic life of the coot. For a space of twenty -minutes I watched an old coot industriously diving -and bringing up the white parts of the stems of -<i>Polygonum persicaria</i>, which grows abundantly there, -together with the rarer more beautiful <i>Lymnanthemum nymphoļdes</i>, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P257"></a>257}</span> -which is called Lymnanth for short. I -prefer an English name for a British plant, an -exceedingly attractive one in this case, and so beg -leave to call it Water-crocus. The old bird was -attended by a full-grown young one, which she was -feeding, and the unfailing diligence and quickness -of the parent were as wonderful to see as the -gluttonous disposition of its offspring. The old coot -dived at least three times every minute, and each -time came up with a clean white stem, the thickness -of a stout clay pipe-stem, cut the proper length—about -three to four inches. This the young bird -would take and instantly swallow; but before it -was well down his throat the old bird would be gone -for another. I was with a friend, and we wondered -when its devouring cormorant appetite would be -appeased, and how its maw could contain so much -food; we also compared it to a hungry Italian -greedily sucking down macaroni. -</p> - -<p> -While this was going on a second young bird had -been on the old nest on the little island in the lake, -quietly dozing; and at length this one got off his -dozing-place, and swam out to where the weed-fishing -and feeding were in progress. As he came -up, the old coot rose with a white stem in her beak, -which the new-comer pushed forward to take; but -the other thrust himself before him, and, snatching -the stem from his parent's beak, swallowed it -himself. The old coot remained perfectly motionless -for a space of about four seconds, looking fixedly -at the greedy one who had been gorging for twenty -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P258"></a>258}</span> -minutes yet refused to give place to the other. Then -very suddenly, and with incredible fury, she dashed -at and began hunting him over the pond. In vain -he rose up and flew over the water, beating the -surface with his feet, uttering cries of terror; in -vain he dived; again and again she overtook and -dealt him the most savage blows with her sharp -beak, until, her anger thoroughly appeased and the -punishment completed, she swam back to the second -bird, waiting quietly at the same spot for her return, -and began once more diving for white stems of -the <i>Polygonum</i>. -</p> - -<p> -Never again, we said, would the greedy young -bird behave in the unmannerly way which had -brought so terrible a castigation upon him! The -coot is certainly a good mother who does not spoil -her child by sparing the rod. And this is the bird -which our comparative anatomists, after pulling it -to pieces, tell us is a small-brained, unintelligent -creature; and which old Michael Drayton, who, -being a poet, ought to have known better, described -as "a formal brainless ass"! -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Happy families -</span> -</p> - -<p> -To come back to the Itchen birds. The little -group, or happy family, I have described was but -one of the many groups of the same kind existing all -along the river; and these separate groups, though -at a distance from each other, and not exactly on -visiting terms, each being jealous of its own stretch -of water, yet kept up a sort of neighbourly intercourse -in their own way. Single cries were heard at -all times from different points; but once or two or -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P259"></a>259}</span> -three times in the day a cry of a coot or a moor-hen -would be responded to by a bird at a distance; then -another would take it up at a more distant point, -and another still, until cries answering cries would -be heard all along the stream. At such times the -voice of the skulking water-rail would be audible -too, but whether this excessively secretive bird had -any social relations with the others beyond joining -in the general greeting and outcry I could not -discover. Thus, all these separate little groups, -composed of three different species, were like the members -of one tribe or people broken up into families; and -altogether it seemed that their lines had fallen to -them in pleasant places, although it cannot be -said that the placid current of their existence was -never troubled. -</p> - -<p> -I know not what happened to disturb them, but -sometimes all at once cries were heard which were -unmistakably emitted in anger, and sounds of splashing -and struggling among the sedges and bulrushes; -and the rushes would be swayed about this way and -that, and birds would appear in hot pursuit of one -another over the water; and then, just when one was -in the midst of wondering what all this fury in their -cooty breasts could be about, lo! it would all be -over, and the little grebe would be busy catching -his silvery fishes; and the moor-hen, pleased as ever -at her own prettiness, nodding and prinking and -flirting her feathers; and the coot, as usual, -mermaid-like, combing out her slate-coloured tresses. -</p> - -<p> -We have seen that of these three species the little -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P260"></a>260}</span> -grebe was not so happy as the others, owing to his -taste for little fishes being offensive to the -fish-breeder and preserver. When I first saw how this -river was watched over by the water-keepers, I came -to the conclusion that very few or no dabchicks -would succeed in hatching any young. And none -were hatched until August, and then to my surprise -I heard at one point the small, plaintive <i>peep-peep</i> -of the young birds crying to be fed. One little grebe, -more cunning or more fortunate than the others, -had at last succeeded in bringing off her young; and -once out of their shells they were safe. But by-and-by -the little duckling-like sound was heard at another -point, and then at another; and this continued in -September, until, by the middle of that month, you -could walk miles along the river, and before you -left the sound of one little brood hungrily crying to -be fed behind you, the little <i>peep-peep</i> of another -brood would begin to be heard in advance of you. -</p> - -<p> -Often enough it is "dogged as does it" in bird as -well as in human affairs, and never had birds more -deserved to succeed than these dogged little grebes. -I doubt if a single pair failed to bring out at least a -couple of young by the end of September. And at -that date you could see young birds apparently -just out of the shell, while those that had been -hatched in August were full grown. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Fishing-lessons -</span> -</p> - -<p> -About the habits of the little grebe, as about those -of the moor-hen, many curious and entertaining -things have been written; but what amused me most -in these birds, when I watched them in late September -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P261"></a>261}</span> -on the Itchen, was the skilful way in which -the parent bird taught her grown-up young ones to -fish. At an early period the fishes given to the downy -young are very small, and are always well bruised -in the beak before the young bird is allowed to take -it, however eager he may be to seize it. Afterwards, -when the young are more grown, the size of the -fishes is increased, and they are less and less bruised, -although always killed. Finally, the young has to -be taught to catch for himself; and at first he does -not appear to have any aptitude for such a task, -or any desire to acquire it. He is tormented with -hunger, and all he knows is that his parent can -catch fish for him, and his only desire is that she -shall go on catching them as fast as he can swallow -them. And she catches him a fish, and gives it to -him, but, oh mockery! it was not really dead this -time, and instantly falls into the water and is lost! -Not hopelessly lost, however, for down she goes -like lightning, and comes up in ten seconds with it -again. And he takes and drops it again, and looks -stupid, and again she recovers and gives it to him. -How many hundreds of times, I wonder, must this -lesson be repeated before the young grebe finds out -how to keep and to kill? Yet that is after all only -the beginning of his education. The main thing -is that he must be taught to dive after the fishes -he lets fall, and he appears to have no inclination, -no intuitive impulse, to do such a thing. A small, -quite dead fish must be given him carelessly, so that -it shall fall, and he must be taught to pick up a -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P262"></a>262}</span> -fallen morsel from the surface; but from that first -simple act to the swift plunge and long chase after -and capture of uninjured vigorous fishes, what an -immense distance there is! It is, however, probable -that, after the first reluctance of the young bird has -been overcome, and a habit of diving after escaped -fishes acquired, he makes exceedingly rapid progress. -</p> - -<p> -But, even after the completion of his education, -when he is independent of his parents, and quick -and sure as they at capturing fishes down in their -own dim element, is it not still a puzzle and a -mystery that such a thing can be done? And here -I speak not only of the little grebe, but of all birds -that dive after fishes, and pursue and capture them -in fresh or salt water. We see how a kingfisher -takes his prey, or a tern, or gannet, or osprey, by -dropping upon it when it swims near the surface; -he takes his fish by surprise, as a sparrow-hawk -takes the bird he preys upon. But no specialisation -can make an air-breathing, feathered bird an equal -of the fish under water. One can see at a glance -in any clear stream that any fish can out-distance -any bird, darting off with the least effort so swiftly -as almost to elude the sight, while the fastest bird -under water moves but little faster than a water-rat. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Fascination -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The explanation, I believe, is that the paralysing -effect on many small, persecuted creatures in the -presence of, or when pursued by, their natural -enemies and devourers, is as common under as -above the water. I have distinctly seen this when -watching fish-eating birds being fed at the Zoological -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P263"></a>263}</span> -Gardens in glass tanks. The appearance of the bird -when he dives strikes an instant terror into them; -and it may then be seen that those which endeavour -to escape are no longer in possession of their full -powers, and their efforts to fly from the enemy are -like those of the mouse and vole when a weasel is -on their track, or of a frog when pursued by a snake; -while others remain suspended in the water, quite -motionless, until seized and swallowed. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap13"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P264"></a>264}</span></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIII -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -Morning in the valley—Abundance of swifts—Unlikeness to -other birds—Mayfly and swallows—Mayfly and swift—Bad -weather and hail—Swallows in the rain—Sand-martins—An -orphaned blackbird—Tamed by feeding—Survival of -gregarious instinct in young blackbirds—Blackbird's -good-night—Cirl buntings—Breeding habits and language—Habits -of the young—Reed-bunting—Beautiful weather—The oak -in August. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Swifts -</span> -</p> - -<p> -During the month of July the swift was the -most abundant and most constantly before -us of all our Itchen-valley birds. In the -morning he was not there. We had the pigeons -then, all three species—ring-dove, stock-dove and -turtle-dove—being abundant in the woods on the -opposite side of the valley, and from four o'clock -to six was the time of their morning concert, when -the still air was filled with the human-like musical -sound of their multitudinous voices mingled in one -voice. An hour or two later, as the air grew warmer, -the swifts would begin to arrive to fly up and down the -stream incessantly until dark, feasting on the gnats -and ephemerę that swarmed over the water during -those hot days of late summer. Doubtless these -birds come every day from all the towns, villages, -and farm-houses scattered over a very broad strip -of country on either side of the Itchen. Never had -I seen swifts so numerous; looking down on the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P265"></a>265}</span> -valley from any point one had hundreds of birds -in sight at once, all swiftly flying up and down -stream; but when the sight was kept fixed on any -one bird, it could be seen that he went but a short -distance—fifty to a hundred yards—then turned -back. Thus each bird had a very limited range, and -probably each returned to his accustomed place or -beat every day. -</p> - -<p> -These swifts are very much in the angler's way. -Frequently they get entangled in the line and are -brought down, but are seldom injured. During one -day's fishing my friend here had three swifts to -disengage from his line. On releasing one of these -birds he watched its movements, and saw it fly up -stream a distance of about forty yards, then double -back, mechanically going on with its fly-hunting up -and down stream just as if nothing had happened. -</p> - -<p> -It may be said of swifts, as Bates said of hummingbirds, -that, mentally, they are more like bees than -birds. The infallible, unchangeable way in which -they, machine-like, perform all their actions, and -their absolute unteachableness, are certainly insect-like. -They are indeed so highly specialised and perfected -in their own line, and, on account of their -marvellous powers of flight, so removed from all -friction in that atmosphere in which they live and -move, above the complex and wit-sharpening -conditions in which the more terrestrial creatures of -their class exist, as to be practically independent -of experience. -</p> - -<p> -It is known that for some time the mayfly has -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P266"></a>266}</span> -been decreasing, and in places disappearing altogether -from these Hampshire streams, and it is believed and -said by some of those who are concerned at these -changes that the swallow is accountable for them. -I do not know whether they have invented this -brilliant idea themselves or have taken it -ready-made from the water-keeper. Probably the last, -since he, the water-keeper, is apt to regard all -creatures that come to the waters where his sacred -fishes are with a dull, hostile suspicion, though in -some cases he is not above adding to his income by -taking a few trout himself—not indeed with the dry -fly, which is useless at night, but with the shoe-net. -In any case the question of exterminating the -swallows in all the villages near the rivers has been -seriously considered. Now, it is rather odd that this -notion about the swallow—the martin is of course -included—should have got about just when this -bird has itself fallen on evil times and is decreasing -with us. This decrease has, in all parts of the country -best known to me, become increasingly rapid during -the last few years, and is probably due to new and -improved methods of taking the birds wholesale -during migration in France and Spain. Putting that -matter aside, I should like to ask those gentlemen -who have decreed, or would like to decree, the -abolition of the swallow in all the riverside villages, -what they propose to do about the swift. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Mayfly and swift -</span> -</p> - -<p> -One day last June (1902) I was walking with two -friends by the Itchen, when a little below the village -of Ovington we sat down to rest and to enjoy a gleam -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P267"></a>267}</span> -of sunshine which happened to visit the world about -noon that day. We sat down on a little wooden -bridge over the main current and fell to watching -the swifts, which were abundant, flying up and down -just over our heads and, swift-like, paying no more -heed to us than if we had been three wooden posts -or three cows. We noticed that ephemerę of three -or four species were rising up, and, borne by a light -wind, drifting down-stream towards us and past us; -and after watching these flies for some time we -found that not one of them escaped. Small and -grey, or dun, or water-coloured and well-nigh -invisible, or large and yellow and conspicuous as they -rose and slowly fluttered over the stream, they were -seen and snapped up, every one of them, by those -fateful sooty-coloured demons of the air, ever -streaming by on their swift scythe-shaped wings. Not a -swallow nor a martin was in sight at that spot. -</p> - -<p> -It is plain, then, that if the mayfly is declining and -dying out because some too greedy bird snatches its -life before it can lay its eggs to continue the species, -or drop upon the water to supply the trout with its -proper succulent food, the swift and not the swallow -is the chief culprit. -</p> - -<p> -It is equally plain that these (from the angler's -point of view) injurious birds are not breeders by -the waterside. Their numbers are too great: they -come, ninety per cent. of them I should say, from -farm-houses, villages, and towns at a distance of -a good many miles from the water. -</p> - -<p> -The revels of the swifts were brought prematurely -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P268"></a>268}</span> -to an end by a great change in the weather, which -began with a thunderstorm on 27th July, and two -days later a greater storm, with hail the size of -big marrowfat peas, which fell so abundantly that -the little lawn was all white as if snow had fallen. -From that time onwards storm succeeded storm, and -finally the weather became steadily bad; and we -had rough, cold, wet days right on to the 10th of -August. It was a terrible time for the poor holiday -people all over the country, and bad too for the -moulting and late-breeding birds. As a small set-off to -all the discomfort of these dreary days, we had a -green lawn once more at the cottage. I had made -one or two attempts at watering it, but the labour -proved too great to a lazy man, and now Nature had -come with her great watering-pot and restored its -spring-like verdure and softness. -</p> - -<p> -During the wettest and coldest days I spent hours -watching the swallows and swifts flying about all -day long in the rain. These are, indeed, our only -summer land-birds that never seek a shelter from the -wet, and which are not affected in their flight by a -wetted plumage. Their upper feathers are probably -harder and more closely knit and impervious to -moisture than those of other kinds. It may be seen -that a swallow or swift, when flying about in the rain, -at short intervals gives himself a quick shake as if -to throw off the raindrops. Then, too, the food -and constant exercise probably serve to keep them -warmer than they would be sitting motionless in a -dry place. Swifts, we sometimes see, are numbed -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P269"></a>269}</span> -and even perish of cold during frosty nights in spring; -I doubt that the cold ever kills them by day when -they can keep perpetually moving. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Sand-martins -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Day by day, during this long spell of summer wet -and cold, these birds diminished in number, until -they were almost all gone—swifts, swallows, and -house-martins; but we were not to be without a -swallow, for as these went, sand-martins came in, -and increased in numbers until they were in thousands. -We had them every day and all day before us, flying -up and down the valley, in the shelter of the woods, -their pale plumage and wavering flight making them -look in the distance like great white flies against the -wall of black-green trees and gloomy sky beyond. -</p> - -<p> -On days when the sun shone they came in numbers -to perch on the telegraph wires stretched across a -field between the cottage and village. It was beautiful -to see them, a double line fifty or sixty yards -long of the small, pale-coloured, graceful birdlings, -sitting so close together as to be almost touching, -all with their beaks pointing to the west, from where -the wind blew. -</p> - -<p> -In this same field, one day when this pleasant -company were leaving us after a week's rest, I picked -up one that had killed himself by striking against -the wire. A most delicate little dead swallow, looking -in his pale colouring and softness as moth-like in -death as he had seemed when alive and flying. I -took him home—the little moth-bird pilgrim to -Africa, who had got no farther than the Itchen -on his journey—and buried him at the roots of a -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P270"></a>270}</span> -honeysuckle growing by the cottage door. It seemed -fittest that he should be put there, to become part -with the plant which, in the pallid yellows and dusky -reds of its blossoms, and in the perfume it gives -out so abundantly at eventide, has an expression of -melancholy, and is more to us in some of our moods -than any other flower. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -An orphaned blackbird -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The bad weather brought to our little plot of -ground a young blackbird, who had evidently been -thrown upon the world too early in life. A good -number of blackbird broods had been brought off -in the bushes about us, and in the rough and tumble -of those tempestuous days some of the young had -no doubt got scattered and lost; this at all events -was one that had called and called to be fed and -warmed and comforted in vain—we had heard him -calling for days—and who had now grown prematurely -silent, and had soberly set himself to find his -own living as best he could. Between the lawn and -the small sweetbriar hedge there was a strip of loose -mould where roses had been planted, and here the -bird had discovered that by turning over the dead -leaves and loose earth a few small morsels were to -be found. During those cold, windy, wet days we -observed him there diligently searching in his poor, -slow little way. He would strike his beak into the -loose ground, making a little hop forward at the -same time to give force to the stroke, and throw up -about as much earth as would cover a shilling-piece; -then he would gaze attentively at the spot, and after -a couple of seconds hop and strike again; and -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P271"></a>271}</span> -finally, if he could see nothing to eat, he would move -on a few inches and begin again in another place. -That was all his art—his one poor little way of -getting a living; and it was plain to see from his -bedraggled appearance and feeble motions, that he -was going the way of most young orphaned birds. -</p> - -<p> -Now, I hate playing at providence among the -creatures, but we cannot be rid of pity; and there -are exceptional cases in which one feels justified in -putting out a helping hand. Nature herself is not -always careless of the individual life: or perhaps it -would be better to say with Thoreau, "We are not -wholly involved in Nature." And anxious to give -the poor bird a chance by putting him in a sheltered -place, and feeding him up, as Ruskin once did in -a like case, I set about catching him, but could not -lay hands on him, for he was still able to fly a little, -and always managed to escape pursuit among the -brambles, or else in the sedges by the waterside. -Half an hour after being hunted, he would be back -on the edge of the lawn prodding the ground in the -old feeble, futile way. And the scraps of food I -cunningly placed for him he disregarded, not -knowing in his ignorance what was good for him. Then -I got a supply of small earthworms, and, stalking -him, tossed them so as to cause them to fall near -him, and he saw and knew what they were, and -swallowed them hungrily; and he saw, too, that they -were thrown to him by a hand, and that the hand -was part of that same huge grey-clad monster that -had a little while back so furiously hunted him; -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P272"></a>272}</span> -and at once he seemed to understand the meaning -of it all, and instead of flying from he ran to meet -us, and, recovering his voice, called to be fed. The -experience of one day made him a tame bird; on -the second day he knew that bread and milk, stewed -plums, pie-crust, and, in fact, anything we had to -give, was good for him; and in the course of the -next two or three days he acquired a useful knowledge -of our habits. Thus, at half-past three in the -morning he would begin calling to be fed at the -bedroom window. If no notice was taken of him he would -go away to try and find something for himself, and -return at five o'clock when breakfast was in -preparation, and place himself before the kitchen door. -Usually he got a small snack then; and at the -breakfast hour (six o'clock) he would turn up at -the dining-room window and get a substantial meal. -Dinner and tea time—twelve and half-past three -o'clock—found him at the same spot; but he was -often hungry between meals, and he would then -sit before one door or window and call, then move -to the next door, and so on until he had been all -round the cottage. It was most amusing to see him -when, on our return from a long walk or a day out, -he would come to meet us, screaming excitedly, -bounding over the lawn with long hops, looking like -a miniature very dark-coloured kangaroo. -</p> - -<p> -One day I came back alone to the cottage, and sat -down on the lawn in a canvas chair, to wait for my -companion who had the key. The blackbird had seen, -and came flying to me, and pitching close to my -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P273"></a>273}</span> -feet began crying to be fed, shaking his wings, and -dancing about in a most excited state, for he had -been left a good many hours without food, and was -very hungry. As I moved not in my chair he presently -ran round and began screaming and fluttering on -the other side of it, thinking, I suppose, that he had -gone to the wrong place, and that by addressing -himself to the back of my head he would quickly -get an answer. -</p> - -<p> -The action of this bird in coming to be fed -naturally attracted a good deal of attention among the -feathered people about us; they would look on at -a distance, evidently astonished and much puzzled -at our bird's boldness in coming to our feet. But -nothing dreadful happened to him, and little by little -they began to lose their suspicion; and first a -robin—the robin is always first—then other blackbirds -to the number of seven, then chaffinches and dunnocks, -all began to grow tame and to attend regularly -at meal-time to have a share in anything that was -going. The most lively, active, and quarrelsome -member of this company was our now glossy foundling; -and it troubled us to think that in feeding him -we were but staving off the evil day when he would -once more have to fend for himself. Certainly we were -teaching him nothing. But our fears were idle. -The seven wild blackbirds that had formed a habit -of coming to share his food were all young birds, -and as time went on and the hedge fruit began to -ripen, we noticed that they kept more and more -together. Whenever one was observed to fly straight -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P274"></a>274}</span> -away to some distance, in a few moments another -would follow, then another; and presently it would -be seen that they were all making their way to some -spot in the valley, or to the woods on the other side. -After several hours' absence they would all reappear -on the lawn, or near it, at the same time, showing -that they had been together throughout the day and -had returned in company. After observing them in -their comings and goings for several weeks I felt -convinced that this species has in it the remains of -a gregarious instinct which affects the young birds. -Our bird, as a member of this little company, must -have quickly picked up from the others all that it -was necessary for him to know, and at last it was -plain to us from his behaviour at the cottage that -he was doing very well for himself. He was often -absent most of the day with the others, and on his -return late in the afternoon he would pick over the -good things placed for him in a leisurely way, -selecting a morsel here and there, and eating more out -of compliment to us, as it seemed, than because he -was hungry. But up to the very last, when he had -grown as hardy and strong on the wing as any of -his wild companions, he kept up his acquaintance -with and confidence in us; and even at night when -I would go out to where most of our wild birds -roosted, in the trees and bushes growing in a vast old -chalk-pit close to the cottage, and called "Blackie," -instantly there would be a response—a softly -chuckled note, like a sleepy "Good-night," thrown -back to me out of the darkness. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P275"></a>275}</span> -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Cirl bunting -</span> -</p> - -<p> -During the spell of rough weather which brought -us the blackbird, my interest was centred in the -cirl buntings. On 4th August, I was surprised to -find that they were breeding again in the little -sweetbriar hedge, and had three fledglings about a -week old in the nest. They had on this occasion -gone from the west to the east side of the cottage, -and the new nest, two to three feet from the ground, -was placed in the centre of a small tangle of -sweet-briar, bramble, and bryony, within a few yards of -the trunk of the big lime tree under which I was -accustomed to sit. I had this nest under observation -until 9th August, which happened to be the worst -day, the coldest, wettest, and windiest of all that -wintry spell; and yet in such weather the young -birds came out of their cradle. For a couple of days -they remained near the nest concealed among some -low bushes; then the whole family moved away to -a hedge at some distance on higher ground, and there -I watched the old birds for some days feeding their -young on grasshoppers. -</p> - -<p> -The result of my observations on these birds -and on three other pairs which I found breeding -close by—one in the village, another just outside of -it, and the third by the thorn-grown foundation of -ruined Abbotstone not far off—came as a surprise -to me; for it appeared that the cirl in its breeding -habits and language was not like other buntings, -nor indeed like any other bird. The young hatched -out of the curiously marked or "written" eggs are -like those of the yellowhammer, black as moor-hen -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P276"></a>276}</span> -chicks in their black down, opening wide crimson -mouths to be fed. But should the parent birds, or -one of them, be watching you at the nest, they -will open not their beaks, but hearing and obeying -the warning note they lie close as if glued to the -bottom of the nest. It is a curious sound. Unless -one knows it, and the cause of it, one may listen -a long time and not discover the bird that utters -it. The buntings sit as usual, motionless and unseen -among the leaves of the tree, and, so long as you -are near the nest, keep up the sound, an excessively -sharp metallic chirp, uttered in turns by both birds, -but always a short note in the female, and a double -note in the male, the second one prolonged to a wail -or squeal. No other bird has an alarm or warning -note like it: it is one of those very high sounds -that are easily missed by the hearing, like the robin's -fine-drawn wail when in trouble about his young; -but when you catch and listen to it the effect on -the brain is somewhat distressing. A Hampshire -friend and naturalist told me that a pair of these -birds that bred in his garden almost drove him -crazy with their incessant sharp alarm note. -</p> - -<p> -The effect of this warning sound on the young is -very striking: before they can fly or are fit to leave -the nest, they are ready, when approached too closely, -to leap like startled frogs out of the nest, and scuttle -away into hiding on the ground. Once they have -flown they are extremely difficult to find, as, on -hearing the parent's warning note, they squat down on -their perch and remain motionless as a leaf among -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P277"></a>277}</span> -the leaves. Often I could only succeed in making -them fly by seizing and shaking the branches of a -thorn or other bush in which I knew they were -hidden. So long as the young bird keeps still on its -branch, the old bird on some tree twenty or thirty -or forty yards away remains motionless, though -all the time emitting the sharp, puzzling, warning -sound; but the very instant that the young bird -quits his perch, darting suddenly away, the parent -bird is up too, shooting out so swiftly as almost to -elude the sight, and in a moment overtakes and flies -with the young bird, hugging it so closely that the -two look almost like one. Together they dart away -to a distance, usually out over a field, and drop and -vanish in the grass. But in a few moments the parent -bird is back again, sitting still among the leaves, -emitting the shrill sound, ready to dart away with -the next young bird that seeks to escape by flight. -</p> - -<p> -This method of attending and safe-guarding the -young is, indeed, common among birds, but in no -species known to me is it seen in such vigour and -perfection. What most strikes one is the change -from immobility when the bird sits invisible among -the leaves, marking the time with those excessively -sharp, metallic clicks and wails like a machine-bird, -to unexpected, sudden, brilliant activity. -</p> - -<p> -When not warned into silence and immobility by -the parent the young cirls are clamorous enough, -crying to be fed, and these, too, have voices of an -excessive sharpness. Of other native species the -sharpest hunger-cries that I know are those of the -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P278"></a>278}</span> -tits, especially the long-tailed tit, and the spotted -fly-catcher; but these sounds are not comparable in -brain-piercing acuteness to those of the young cirls. -</p> - -<p> -Another thing I have wondered at in a creature -of so quiet a disposition as the cirl bunting is the -extraordinary violence of the male towards other -small birds when by chance they come near his -young, in or out of the nest. So jealous is he that he -will attack a willow-wren or a dunnock with as much -fury as other birds use only towards the most deadly -enemies of their young. -</p> - -<p> -Here, by the Itchen, where we have all four -buntings, I find that the reed-bunting—called black-head -or black-top—is, after the cirl, the latest singer. -He continues when, towards the end of August, the -corn-bunting and yellowhammer become silent. He -is the poorest singer of the bunting tribe, the first -part of his song being like the chirp of an excited -sparrow, somewhat shriller, and then follows the -long note, shrill too, or sibilant and tremulous. It -is more like the distressful hunger-call of some young -birds than a song-note. A reedy sound in a reedy -place, and one likes to hear it in the green valley -among the wind-rustled, sword-shaped leaves and -waving spears of rush and aquatic grass. So fond -is he of his own music that he will sing even when -moulting. I was amused one day when listening -to a reed-bunting sitting on a top branch of a dwarf -alder tree in the valley of Ovington, busily occupied -in preening his fluffed-out and rather ragged-looking -plumage, yet pausing at short intervals in his task -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P279"></a>279}</span> -to emit his song. So taken up was he with the -feather-cleaning and singing, that he took no notice of me -when I walked to within twenty-five yards of him. -By-and-by, in passing one of his long flight-feathers -through his beak it came out, at which he appeared -very much surprised. First he raised his head, then -began turning it about this way and that, as if -admiring the feather he held, or trying to get a better -sight of it. For quite a minute he kept it, forgetting -to sing, then in turning it about he accidentally -dropped it. Bending his head down, he watched its -slow fall to the grass below very intently, and -continued gazing down even after it was on the ground; -then, pulling himself together, he resumed the -feather-preening task, with its musical interludes. -</p> - -<p> -The worst day during the bad weather when the -young cirl buntings left the nest brought the wintry -spell to an end. A few days of such perfect weather -followed that one could wish for no higher good than -to be alive on that green earth, beneath that blue -sky. One could best appreciate the crystal purity -and divine blueness of the immense space by watching -the rooks revelling on high in the morning sunshine, -looking in their blackness against the crystalline -blue like bird-figures with outspread, motionless wings, -carved out of anthracite coal, and suspended by -invisible wires in heaven. You could watch them, a -numerous company, moving upward in wide circles, -the sound of their voices coming fainter and fainter -back to earth, until at that vast height they seemed -no bigger than humble-bees. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P280"></a>280}</span> -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -The oak in August -</span> -</p> - -<p> -This clarity of atmosphere had a striking effect, -too, on the appearance of the trees, and I could not -help noticing the superiority of the oak to all other -forest trees in this connection. There comes a time -in late summer when at last it loses that "glad light -grene" which has distinguished it among its -dark-leafed neighbours, and made it in our eyes a type of -unfading spring and of everlastingness. It grows -dark, too, at last, and is as dark as a cypress or a -cedar of Lebanon; but observe how different this -depth of colour is from that of the elm. The elm, -too, stands alone, or in rows, or in isolated groups -in the fields, and in the clear sunshine its foliage -has a dull, summer-worn, almost rusty green. There -is no such worn and weary look in the foliage of the -oak in August and September. It is of a rich, healthy -green, deep but undimmed by time and weather, -and the leaf has a gloss to it. Again, on account of -its manner of growth, with widespread branches and -boughs and twigs well apart, the foliage does not -come before us as a mere dense mass of green—an -intercepting cloud, as in a painted tree; but the sky -is seen through it, and against the sky are seen the -thousand thousand individual leaves, clear-cut and -beautiful in shape. -</p> - -<p> -It was one of my daily pleasures during this fine -weather to go out and look at one of the solitary -oak trees growing in the adjoining field when the -morning sunlight was on it. To my mind it looked -best when viewed at a distance of sixty to seventy -yards across the open grass field with nothing but -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P281"></a>281}</span> -the sky beyond. At that distance not only could -the leaves be distinctly seen, but the acorns as well, -abundantly and evenly distributed over the whole -tree, appearing as small globes of purest bright -apple-green among the deep green foliage. The -effect was very rich, as of tapestry with an oak-leaf -pattern and colour, sprinkled thickly over with -round polished gems of a light-green sewn into -the fabric. -</p> - -<p> -To an artist with a soul in him, the very sight of -such a tree in such conditions would, I imagined, -make him sick of his poor little ineffectual art. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap14"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P282"></a>282}</span></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIV -</h3> - -<p class="intro"> -Yellow flowers—Family likeness in flavours and scents—<i>Mimulus -luteus</i>—Flowers in church decoration—Effect of association—<i>Mimulus -luteus</i> as a British plant—A rule as to naturalised -plants wanted—A visit to Swarraton—Changes since Gilbert -White's day—"Wild musk"—Bird life on the downs—Turtle-dove -nestlings—Blue skin in doves—A boy naturalist—Birds -at the cottage—The wren's sun-bath—Wild fruits -ripen—An old chalk pit—Birds and elderberries—Past and -present times compared—Calm days—Migration of -swallows—Conclusion. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The oak in the field and a flowering plant by -the water were the two best things plant -life contained for me during those beautiful -late summer days by the Itchen. About the -waterside flower I must write at some length. -</p> - -<p> -Of our wild flowers the yellow in colour, as a rule, -attract me least; not because the colour is not -beautiful to me, but probably on account of the numerous -ungraceful, weedy-looking plants of unpleasant scent -which in late summer produce yellow flowers—tansy, -fleabane, ragwort, sow-thistle, and some of other -orders, the worst of the lot being the pepper -saxifrage, an ungainly parsley in appearance, with -evil-smelling flowers. You know them by their odours. -If I were to smell at a number of strong-scented -flowers unknown to me in a dark room, or blindfolded, -I should be able to pick out the yellow ones. -</p> - -<p> -They would have the yellow smell. The yellow -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P283"></a>283}</span> -smell has an analogue in the purple taste. It may be -fancy, but it strikes me that there is a certain family -resemblance in the flavours of most purple fruits, -or their skins—the purple fruit-flavour which is so -strong in damson, sloe, black currant, blackberry, -mulberry, whortleberry, and elderberry. -</p> - -<p> -All the species I have named were common in the -valley, and there were others—St. John's wort, yellow -loosestrife, etc.—which, although not ungraceful nor -evil-smelling, yet failed to attract. Nevertheless, as -the days and weeks went on and brought yet another -conspicuous yellow waterside flower into bloom, -which became more and more abundant as the season -advanced, while the others, one by one, faded and -failed from the earth, until, during the last half of -September, it was in its fullest splendour, I was -completely won by it, and said in my haste that it was -the brightest blossom in all the Hampshire garland, -if not the loveliest wild flower in England. Nor was -it strange, all things considered, that I was so taken -with its beauty, since, besides being beautiful, it was -new to me, and therefore had the additional charm -of novelty; and, finally, it was at its best when all -the conspicuous flowers that give touches of brilliant -colour here and there to the green of this greenest -valley, including most of the yellow flowers I have -mentioned, were faded and gone. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Mimulus luteus -</span> -</p> - -<p> -No description of this flower, <i>Mimulus luteus</i>, -known to the country people as "wild musk," is -needed here—it is well known as a garden plant. -The large foxglove-shaped flowers grow singly on -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P284"></a>284}</span> -their stems among the topmost leaves, and the form -of stem, leaf, and flower is a very perfect example of -that kind of formal beauty in plants which is called -"decorative." This character is well shown in the -accompanying figure, reduced to little more than half -the natural size, from a spray plucked at Bransbury, -on the Test. But the shape is nothing, and is scarcely -seen or noticed twenty-five to fifty yards away, the -proper distance at which to view the blossoming -plants; not indeed as a plant-student or an admirer -of flowers in a garden would view it, as the one thing -to see, but merely as part of the scene. The colour -is then everything. There is no purer, no more -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P285"></a>285}</span> -beautiful yellow in any of our wild flowers, from -the primrose and the almost equally pale, exquisite -blossom which we improperly name "dark mullein" -in our books on account of its lovely purple eye, to -the intensest pure yellow of the marsh marigold. -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-284"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-284.jpg" alt="MIMULUS LUTEUS" /> -<br /> -MIMULUS LUTEUS -</p> - -<p> -But although purity of colour is the chief thing, -it would not of itself serve to give so great a -distinction to this plant; the charm is in the colour -and the way in which Nature has disposed it, -abundantly, in single, separate blossoms, among leaves -of a green that is rich and beautiful, and looks almost -dark by contrast with that shining, luminous hue it -sets off so well. -</p> - -<p> -On 17th September it was Harvest Festival Sunday -at the little church at Itchen Abbas, where I -worshipped that day, and I noticed that the decorators -had dressed up the font with water-plants and flowers -from the river; reeds and reed-mace, or cat's-tail, -and the yellow mimulus. It was a mistake. Deep -green, glossy foliage, and white and brilliantly -coloured flowers look well in churches; white -chrysanthemums, arums, azaleas, and other conspicuous -white flowers; and scarlet geraniums, and many -other garden blooms which seen in masses in the -sunshine hurt the sense—cinerarias, calceolarias, -larkspurs, etc. The subdued light of the interior -softens the intensity, and sometimes crudity, of -the strongest colours, and makes them suitable for -decoration. The effect is like that of stained-glass -windows, or of a bright embroidery on a sober ground. -The graceful, grey, flowery reeds, and the light-green -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P286"></a>286}</span> -reed-mace, with its brown velvet head, and the -moist yellow of the mimulus, which quickly loses -its freshness, look not well in the dim, religious light -of the old village church. These should be seen -where the sunlight and wind and water are, or not -seen at all. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Mimulus and Camaloté -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Beautiful as the mimulus is when viewed in its -natural surroundings, by running waters amidst the -greys and light and dark greens of reed and willow, -and of sedge and aquatic grasses, and water-cress, -and darkest bulrush, its attractiveness was to me -greatly increased by association. Now to say that -a flower which is new to one can have any associations -may sound very strange, but it is a fact in this -case. Viewing it at a distance of, say, forty or fifty -yards, as a flower of a certain size, which might be -any shape, in colour a very pure, luminous yellow, -blooming in profusion all over the rich green, rounded -masses of the plants, as one may see it in September -at Ovington, and at many other points on the Itchen, -from its source to Southampton Water, and on the -Test, I am so strongly reminded of the yellow camaloté -of the South American watercourses that the memory -is almost like an illusion. It has the pure, beautiful -yellow of the river camaloté; in its size it is like -that flower; it grows, too, in the same way, singly, -among rounded masses of leaves of the same lovely -rich green; and the camaloté, too, has for neighbours -the green blades of the sedges, and grey, -graceful reeds, and multitudinous bulrushes, their -dark polished stems tufted with brown. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P287"></a>287}</span> -</p> - -<p> -Looking at these masses of blossoming mimulus -at Ovington, I am instantly transported in thought -to some waterside thousands of miles away. The -dank, fresh smell is in my nostrils; I listen -delightedly to the low, silvery, water-like gurgling note -of the little kinglet in his brilliant feathers among -the rushes, and to the tremulous song of the green -marsh-grasshoppers or leaf-crickets; and with a -still greater delight do I gaze at the lovely yellow -flower, the unforgotten camaloté, which is as much -to me as the wee, modest, crimson-tipped daisy was -to Robert Burns or to Chaucer; and as the primrose, -the violet, the dog-rose, the shining, yellow -gorse, and the flower o' the broom, and bramble, -and hawthorn, and purple heather are to so many -inhabitants of these islands who were born and -bred amid rural scenes. -</p> - -<p> -On referring to the books for information as to -the history of the mimulus as a British wild flower, -I found that in some it was not mentioned, and -in others mentioned only to be dismissed with the -remark that it is an "introduced plant." But when -was it introduced, and what is its range? And whom -are we to ask? -</p> - -<p> -After an infinite amount of pains, seeing and -writing to all those among my acquaintances who -have any knowledge of our wild plant life, I -discovered that the mimulus grows more or less -abundantly in or by streams here and there in most -English counties, but is more commonly met with -south of Derbyshire; also that it extends to Scotland, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P288"></a>288}</span> -and is known even in the Orkneys. Finally, a -botanical friend discovered for me that as long -ago as 1846 there had been a great discussion, in -which a number of persons took part, on this very -subject of the date of the naturalisation in Britain -of the mimulus, in Edward Newman's botanical -magazine, the <i>Phytologist</i>. It was shown conclusively -by a correspondent that the plant had established -itself at one point as far back as the year 1815. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A British species? -</span> -</p> - -<p> -There may exist more literature on the subject if -one knew where to look for it; but we are certainly -justified in feeling annoyed at the silence of the -makers of books on British wild flowers, and the -compilers of local lists and floras. And what, we -should like to ask of our masters, is a British wild -flower? Does not the same rule apply to plants as -to animals—namely, that when a species, whether -"introduced" or imported by chance or by human -agency, has thoroughly established itself on our soil, -and proved itself able to maintain its existence in a -state of nature, it becomes, and is, a British species? -If this rule had not been followed by zoologists, even -our beloved little rabbit would not be a native, to -say nothing of our familiar brown rat and our -black-beetle: and the pheasant, and red-legged partridge, -and capercailzie, and the fallow-deer, and a frog, and -a snail, and goodness knows how many other British -species, introduced into this country by civilised man, -some in recent times. And, going farther back in -time, it may be said that every species has at some -time been brought, or has brought itself, from -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P289"></a>289}</span> -otherwhere—every animal from the red deer and the white -cattle, to the smallest, most elusive microbe not yet -discovered; and every plant from the microscopical -fungus to the British oak and the yew. The main -thing is to have a rule in such a matter, a simple, -sensible rule, like that of the zoologist, or some other; -and what we should like to know from the botanists -is—Have they got a rule, and, if so, what is it? There -are many who would be glad of an answer to this -question: judging from the sale of books on British -wild flowers during the last few years, there must -be several millions of persons in this country who -take an interest in the subject. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A visit to Swarraton -</span> -</p> - -<p> -One bright September day, when the mimulus was -in its greatest perfection, and my new pleasure in -the flower at its highest, I by chance remembered -that Gilbert White, of Selborne, in the early part -of his career, had been curate for a time at Swarraton, -a small village on the Itchen, near its source, -about four miles above Alresford. That was in -1747. To Swarraton I accordingly went, only to -find what any guide-book or any person would have -told me, that the church no longer exists. Only the -old churchyard remained, overgrown with nettles, -the few tombstones that had not been carried away -so covered with ivy as to appear like green mounds. -A group of a dozen yews marked the spot where the -church had formerly stood; and there were besides -some very old trees, an ancient yew and a giant -beech, and others, and just outside the ground as -noble an ash tree as I have ever seen. These three, -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P290"></a>290}</span> -at any rate, must have been big trees a century -and a half ago, and well known to Gilbert White. -On inquiry I was told that the church had been -pulled down a very long time back—about forty -years, perhaps; that it was a very old and very -pretty church, covered with ivy, and that no one -knew why it was pulled down. The probable reason -was that a vast church was being or about to be -built at the neighbouring village of Northington, big -enough to hold all the inhabitants of the two parishes -together, and about a thousand persons besides. -This immense church would look well enough among -the gigantic structures of all shapes and materials -in the architectural wonderland of South Kensington. -But I came not to see this building: the little ancient -village church, in which the villagers had worshipped -for several centuries, where Gilbert White did duty -for a year or so, was what I wanted, and I was -bitterly disappointed. Looking away from the -weed-grown churchyard, I began to wonder what his -feelings would be could he revisit this old familiar -spot. The group of yew trees where the church had -stood, and the desolate aspect of the ground about -it would disturb and puzzle his mind; but, on -looking farther, all the scene would appear as he -had known it so long ago—the round, wooded hills, -the green valley, the stream, and possibly some of -the old trees, and even the old cottages. Then his -eyes would begin to detect things new and strange. -First, my bicycle, leaning against the trunk of the -great ash tree, would arrest his attention; but in -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P291"></a>291}</span> -a few moments, before he could examine it closely -and consider for what purpose it was intended, -something far more interesting and more wonderful -to him would appear in sight. Five large birds -standing quietly on the green turf beside the -stream—birds never hitherto seen. Regarding them -attentively, he would see that they were geese, and it -would appear to him that they were of two species, -one white and grey in colour, with black legs, the -other a rich maroon red, with yellow legs; also -that they were both beautiful and more graceful in -their carriage than any bird of their family known -to him. Before he would cease wondering at the -presence at Swarraton of these Magellanic geese, -no longer strange to any living person's eye in -England, lo! a fresh wonder—beautiful yellow -flowers by the stream, unlike any flower that grew -there in his day, or by any stream in Hampshire. -</p> - -<p> -But how long after White's time did that flower run -wild in Hampshire? I asked, and then thought that -I might get the answer from some old person who -had spent a long life at that spot. -</p> - -<p> -I went no farther than the nearest cottage to find -the very one I wanted, an ancient dame of seventy-four, -who had never lived anywhere but in that -small thatched cottage at the side of the old -churchyard. She was an excessively thin old dame, and -had the appearance of a walking skeleton in a worn -old cotton gown; and her head was like a skull -with a thin grey skin drawn tightly over the sharp -bones of the face, with pale-coloured living eyes in -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P292"></a>292}</span> -the sockets. Her scanty grey hair was gathered in -a net worn tightly on her head like a skull-cap. The -old women in the villages here still keep to this -long-vanished fashion. -</p> - -<p> -I asked this old woman to tell me about the -yellow flowers by the water, and she said that they -had always been there. I told her she must be -mistaken; and after considering for awhile she -assured me that they grew there in abundance when -she was quite young. She distinctly remembered -that before her marriage—and that was over fifty -years ago—she often went down to the stream to -gather flowers, and would come in with great handfuls -of wild musk. -</p> - -<p> -When she had told me this, even before she had -finished speaking, I seemed to see two persons before -me—the lean old woman with her thin colourless -visage, and, coming in from the sunshine, a young -woman with rosy face, glossy brown hair and -laughing blue eyes, her hands full of brightest yellow -wild musk from the stream. And the visionary -woman seemed to be alive and real, and the other -unsubstantial, a delusion of the mind, a ghost of -a woman. -</p> - -<p> -But was the old woman right—was the beautiful -yellow mimulus, the wild musk or water-buttercup -as she called it, which our botanists refuse to admit -into their works intended for our instruction, or -give it only half a dozen dry words—was it a -common wild flower on the Hampshire rivers more than -half a century ago? -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P293"></a>293}</span> -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Bird life on the downs -</span> -</p> - -<p> -From the valley and the river with its shining -yellow mimulus and floating water-grass in the -crystal current—that green hair-like grass that one -is never tired of looking at—back to the ivy-green -cottage, its ancient limes and noble solitary oaks, -and, above all, its birds; then back again to the -stream—that mainly was our life. But close by on -either side of the valley were the downs, and these -too drew us with that immemorial fascination which -the higher ground has for all of us, because of the -sense of freedom and power which comes with a -wide horizon. That was a fine saying of Lord Herbert -of Cherbury that a man mounted on a good horse -is lifted above himself: one experiences the feeling -in a greater degree on any chalk down. One extensive -open down within easy distance was a favourite -afternoon walk. Here on the short fragrant turf -an army of pewits were to be found every day, -and usually there were a few stone-curlews with -them. It is not here as in the country about -Salisbury, where the Hawking Club has its headquarters, -and where they have been "having fun with the -thick-knees," as they express it in their lingo, until -there are no thick-knees left. But the chief attraction -of this down was an extensive thicket of thorn -and bramble, mixed with furze and juniper and -some good-sized old trees, where birds were -abundant, many of them still breeding. Here, down -to the end of September, I found turtle-doves' nests -with newly-hatched young and incubated eggs. I -always felt more than compensated for scratches -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P294"></a>294}</span> -and torn clothes when I found young turtle-doves -in the down, as the little creatures are then -delightful to look at. Sitting hunched up on its platform, -the head with its massive bulbous beak drawn -against its arched back, the little thing is less like -a bird than a mammal in appearance—a singularly -coloured shrew, let us say. The colour is indeed -strange, the whole body, the thick, fleshy, snout-like -beak included, being a deep, intense, almost indigo -blue, and the loose hair-like down on the head and -upper parts a light, bright primrose yellow. -</p> - -<p> -There are surprising colours in some young birds: -the cirl nestling, as we have seen, is black and -crimson—clothed in black down with gaping crimson mouth; -loveliest of all is the young snipe in down of brown-gold, -frosted with silvery white; but for quaintness -and fantastic colouring the turtle-dove nestling has -no equal. In all of our native doves, and probably -in all doves everywhere, the skin is blue and the -down yellow, but the colours differ in intensity. -I tried to find a newly-hatched stock-dove to compare -it with the turtle nestling but failed, although the -species is quite common and, like the other two, -breeds till October. Ring-dove nestlings were easy -to see, but in these the blue colour, though deep on -the beak and head, is quite pale on the body, fading -almost to white on some parts; and the down, too, -is very pale, fading to whitish tow-colour on the -sides and back. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -A boy naturalist -</span> -</p> - -<p> -When seeking for a ring-dove in down I had an -amusing adventure. At a distance of some miles -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P295"></a>295}</span> -from the Itchen, near the Test, one day in September, -I was hunting for an insect I wanted in a thick -copse by Tidbury Ring, an ancient earthwork on -the summit of a chalk hill. Hearing a boy's voice -singing near, I peeped out and saw a lad of about -fifteen tending some sheep: he was walking about -on his knees, trimming the herbage with an old -rusty pair of shears which he had found! It startled -him a little when I burst out of the cover so near -him, but he was ready to enter into conversation, -and we had a long hour together, sitting on the -sunny down. I mentioned my desire to find a -newly-hatched ring-dove, and he at once offered -to show me one. There were two nests with young -close by, in one the birds were half-fledged, the others -only came out of their shells two days before. These -we went to look for, the boy leading the way to a -point where the trees grew thickest. He climbed -a yew, and from the yew passed to a big beech -tree, in which the nest was placed, but on getting -to it he cried out that the nest was forsaken and -the young dead. He threw them down to me, and he -was grieved at their death as he had known about -the nest from the time it was made, and had seen -the young birds alive the day before. No doubt -the parents had been shot, and the cold night had -quickly killed the little ones. -</p> - -<p> -This was the most intelligent boy I have met in -Hampshire; he knew every bird and almost every -insect I spoke to him about. He was, too, a mighty -hunter of little birds, and had captured stock-doves -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P296"></a>296}</span> -and wheatears in the rabbit burrows. But his -greatest feat was the capture of a kingfisher. He -was down by the river with a sparrow-net at a spot -where the bushes grow thick and close to the water, -when he saw a kingfisher come and alight on a dead -twig within three yards of him. The bird had not -seen him standing behind the bush: it sat for a -few moments on the twig, its eyes fixed on the -water, then it dropped swiftly down, and he jumped -out and threw the net over it just as it rose up with -a minnow in its beak. He took it home and put -it in a cage. -</p> - -<p> -I gave him a sharp lecture on the cruelty of caging -kingfishers, telling him how senseless it was to -confine such a bird, and how impossible to keep it -alive in prison. It was better to kill them at once -if he wanted to destroy them. "Of course your -kingfisher died," I said. -</p> - -<p> -"No," he replied. He stood the cage on a chair, -and the bird was no sooner in it than his little sister, -a child of two who was fidgeting round, pulled the -door open and out flew the kingfisher! -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Birds at the cottage -</span> -</p> - -<p> -Returning to the cottage, whether from the high -down, the green valley, or the silent, shady wood, -it always seemed a favourite dwelling- or nesting-place -of the birds, where indeed they most abounded. -Now that bright genial weather had come after the -cold and storm to make them happy, the air was -full of their chirpings and twitterings, their various -little sounds of conversation and soliloquy, with an -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P297"></a>297}</span> -occasional bright, loud, perfect song. It was -generally the wren, whose lyric changes not through all -the changeful year, that uttered it. It was this -small brown bird, too, that amused me most with -the spectacle of his irrepressible delight in the new -warmth and sunlight. There were about a dozen -wrens at the cottage, and some of them were -in the habit of using their old undamaged nests in -the ivy and woodbine as snug little dormitories. -But they cared nothing for the human inhabitants -of the cottage; they were like small birds that had -built their nest in the interstices of an eagles' eyrie, -who knew nothing and cared nothing about the -eagles. Occasionally, when a wren peeped in from -the clustering ivy or hopped on to a window-sill -and saw us inside, he would scold us for being there -with that sharp, angry little note of his, and then -fly away. Nor would he take a crumb from the -table spread out of doors every day for the birds -that disdained not to be fed. The ivy and creepers -that covered the cottage abounded with small -spiders, caterpillars, earwigs, chrysalids, and what -not; that was good enough for him—Thank you -for your kind intentions! -</p> - -<p> -Looking from a window at a bed of roses a few -feet away, I discovered that the wren took as much -pleasure in a dust bath as any bird. He would come -to the loose soil and select a spot where the bed -sloped towards the sun, and then wriggle about in -the earth with immense enjoyment. Dusting himself, -he would look like a miniature partridge with -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P298"></a>298}</span> -a round body not much bigger than a walnut. After -dusting would come the luxurious sun-bath, when, -with feathers raised and minute wings spread out -and beak gaping, the little thing would lie -motionless and panting; but at intervals of three or four -seconds a joyful fit of shivering would seize him, -and at last, the heat becoming too great, he would -shake himself and skip away, looking like a brown -young field-vole scuttling into cover. -</p> - -<p> -This bright and beautiful period came to an end -on 22nd August, and we then had unsettled weather -with many sudden changes until 3rd September—cloudy -oppressive days, violent winds, thunderstorms, -and days of rain and sunshine, and morning -and evening rainbows; it was a mixture of April, -midsummer, and October. -</p> - -<p> -This changeful period over, there was fine settled -weather; it was the golden time of the year, and it -continued till our departure on the last day of September. -</p> - -<p> -The fruit season was late this year—nearly a fortnight -later than in most years; and when the earliest, -the wild arum, began to ripen, the birds—thrushes -and chaffinches were detected—fell upon and devoured -all the berries, regardless of their poisonous character -almost before their light-green had changed to vivid -scarlet. Then came the deep crimson fruit of the -honeysuckle; it ripened plentifully on the plants -growing against the cottage, and the cole-tits came -in bands to feed on it. It was pretty to see these -airy little acrobats clinging to the twine-like pendent -sprays hanging before an open window or door. -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P299"></a>299}</span> -They were like the little birds in a Japanese picture -which one has seen. Then came the elderberries, -which all fruit-loving birds feast on together. But -the tits and finches and warblers and thrushes were -altogether out-numbered by the starlings that came -in numbers from the pasture-lands to take part in -the great fruit-feast. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -An old chalk pit -</span> -</p> - -<p> -The elder is a common tree here, but at the cottage -we had, I think, the biggest crop of fruit in the -neighbourhood; and it now occurs to me that the vast -old chalk pit in which the trees grew has not yet -been described, and so far has only been once -mentioned incidentally. Yet it was a great place, but a -few yards away at the side of the old lime trees and -the small protecting fence. The entrance to it and -its wide floor was on a level with the green valley, -while at its upper end it formed a steep bank forty -feet high. It was doubtless a very old pit, with sides -which had the appearance of natural cliffs and were -overhung and draped with thorn-trees, masses of -old ivy, and traveller's joy. Inside it was a pretty -tangled wilderness; on the floor many tall annuals -flourished—knapweed and thistle and dark mullein -and teazel, six to eight feet high. Then came some -good-sized trees—ash and oak—and thorn, bramble -and elder in masses. It was a favourite breeding-place -of birds of many species; even the red-backed -shrike had nested there within forty yards of a -human habitation, and the kingfisher had safely -reared his young, unsuspected by the barbarous -water-keeper. The pit, too, was a shelter in cold -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P300"></a>300}</span> -rough weather and a roosting-place at night. Now -the fruit was ripe, it was a banqueting-place as well, -and the native birds were joined by roving outsiders, -missel-thrushes in scores, and starlings in hundreds. -The noise they produced—a tangle of so many -various semi-musical voices—sounded all day long; -and until the abundant fruit had all been devoured -the chalk pit was a gigantic green and white bowl full -to overflowing with sunshine, purple juice, and melody. -</p> - -<p> -The biggest crop of this fruit, out of the old chalk -pit, was in the garden of a cottage in the village, -close to the river, occupied by an old married couple, -hard workers still with spade and hoe, and able to -make a Living by selling the produce of their garden. -It was a curious place; fruit trees and bushes, herbs, -vegetables, flowers, all growing mixed up anyhow, -without beds or walks or any line of demarcation -between cultivated plants and brambles and nettles -on either side and the flags and sedges at the lower -end by the river. In the midst of the plot, just -visible among the greenery, stood the small, old, -low-roofed thatched cottage, where the hens were -free to go in and lay their eggs under the bed or -in any dark corner they preferred. A group of seven -or eight old elder-trees grew close to the cottage, -their branches bent and hanging with the weight of -the purpling clusters. -</p> - -<p> -"What are you going to do with the fruit?" I -asked the old woman; and this innocent question -raised a tempest in her breast, for I had unwittingly -touched on a sore subject. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P301"></a>301}</span> -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Past and present times -</span> -</p> - -<p> -"Do!" she exclaimed rather fiercely, "I'm going -to do nothing with it! I've made elderberry wine -years and years and years. So did my mother; -so did my grandmother; so did everybody in my -time. And very good it were, too, I tell 'e, in cold -weather in winter, made hot. It warmed your inside. -But nobody wants it now, and nobody'll help me -with it. How'm I to do it—keep the birds off and -all! I've been fighting 'em years and years, and now -I can't do it no longer. And what's the good of -doing it if the wine's not good enough for people -to drink? Nothing's good enough now unless you -buys it in a public-house or a shop. It wasn't so -when I were a girl. We did everything for ourselves -then, and it were better, I tell 'e. We kep' a pig -then—so did everyone; and the pork and bacon -it were good, not like what we buy now. We put -it mostly in brine, and let it be for months; and -when we took it out and biled it, it were red as a -cherry and white as milk, and it melted just like -butter in your mouth. That's what we ate in my -time. But you can't keep a pig now—oh dear, no! -You don't have him more'n a day or two before the -sanitary man looks in. He says he were passing and -felt a sort of smell about—would you mind letting -him come in just to have a sniff round? He expects -it might be a pig you've got. In my time we didn't -think a pig's smell hurt nobody. They've got their -own smell, pigs have, same as dogs and everything -else. But we've got very partickler about smells now. -</p> - -<p> -"And we didn't drink no tea then. Eight shillings -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P302"></a>302}</span> -a pound, or maybe seven-and-six—dear, dear, how -was we to buy it! We had beer for breakfast and it -did us good. It were better than all these nasty -cocoa stuffs we drink now. We didn't buy it at -the public-house—we brewed it ourselves. And we -had a brick oven then, and could put a pie in, and a -loaf, and whatever we wanted, and it were proper -vittals. We baked barley bread, and black bread, -and all sorts of bread, and it did us good and made -us strong. These iron ranges and stoves we have -now—what's the good o' they? You can't bake bread -in 'em. And the wheat bread you gits from the shop, -what's it good for? 'Tisn't proper vittals—it fills -'e with wind. No, I say, I'm not going to git the -fruit—let the birds have it! Just look at the greedy -things—them starlings! I've shouted, and thrown -sticks and all sorts of things, and shaken a cloth -at 'em, and it's like calling the fowls to feed. The -more noise I make the more they come. What I -say is, If I can't have the fruit I wish the blackbirds -'ud git it. People say to me, 'Oh, don't talk to me -about they blackbirds—they be the worst of all -for fruit.' But I never minded that—because—well -I'll tell 'e. I mind when I were a little thing at -Old Alresford, where I were born, I used to be up -at four in the morning, in summer, listening to the -blackbirds. And mother she used to say, 'Lord, -how she do love to hear a blackbird!' It's always -been the same. I's always up at four, and in summer -I goes out to hear the blackbird when it do sing so -beautiful. But them starlings that come messing -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P303"></a>303}</span> -about, pulling the straws out of the thatch, I've -no patience with they. We didn't have so many -starlings when I were young. But things is very -different now; and what I say is, I wish they wasn't—I -wish they was the same as when I were a girl. -And I wish I was a girl again." -</p> - -<p> -Listening to this tirade on the degeneracy of -modern times, it amused me to recall the very -different feeling on the same subject expressed by -the old Wolmer Forest woman. But the Itchen -woman had more vigour, more staying-power in her: -one could see it in the fresh colour in her round -face, and the pure colour and brightness of her -eyes—brighter and bluer than in most blue-eyed girls. -Altogether, she was one of the best examples of the -hard-headed, indomitable Saxon peasants I have -met with in the south of England. She was past -seventy, impeded by an old infirmity, the mother -of many men and women with big families of their -own, all scattered far and wide over the county,—all -too poor themselves to help her in her old age, -or to leave their work and come such a distance to -see her, excepting when they were in difficulties, -for then they would come for what she could spare -them out of her hardly-earned little hoard. -</p> - -<p> -I admired her "fierce volubility"; but that sudden -softening at the end about the blackbird's beautiful -voice, and that memory of her distant childhood, -and her wish, strange in these weary days, -to have her hard life to live over again, came as -a surprise to me. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P304"></a>304}</span> -</p> - -<p> -<span class="sidenote"> -Migration of swallows -</span> -</p> - -<p> -In days like these, so bright and peaceful, one -thinks with a feeling of wonder that many of our -familiar birds are daily and nightly slipping away, -decreasing gradually in numbers, so that we scarcely -miss them. By the middle of September the fly-catchers -and several of the warblers, all but a few -laggards, have left us. Even the swallows begin to -leave us before that date. On the 8th many birds -were congregated at a point on the river a little -above the village, and on the 10th a considerable -migration took place. Near the end of a fine day -a big cloud came up from the north-west, and -beneath it, at a good height, the birds were seen -flying down the valley in a westerly direction. I -went out and watched them for half an hour, standing -on the little wooden bridge that spans the stream. -They went by in flocks of about eighty to a couple -of hundred birds, flock succeeding flock at intervals -of three or four minutes. By the time the sun set -the entire sky was covered by the black cloud, and -there was a thick gloom on the earth; it was then -some eight or ten minutes after the last flock, flying -high, had passed twittering on its way that a rush -of birds came by, flying low, about on a level with -my head as I stood leaning on the handrail of the -bridge. I strained my eyes in vain to make out -what they were—swallows or martins—as in rapid -succession, and in twos and threes, they came before -me, seen vaguely as dim spots, and no sooner seen -than gone, shooting past my head with amazing -velocity and a rushing sound, fanning my face with -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P305"></a>305}</span> -the wind they created, and some of them touching -me with their wing-tips. -</p> - -<p> -On the evening of 18th September a second migration -was witnessed at the same spot, flock succeeding -flock until it was nearly dark. On the following -evening, at another point on the river at Ovington, -I witnessed a third and more impressive spectacle. -The valley spreads out there to a great width, and -has extensive beds of reeds, bulrushes, and other -water plants, with clumps and rows of alders and -willows. It was growing dark; bats were flitting -round me in numbers, and the trees along the edge -of the valley looked black against the pale amber -sky in the west, when very suddenly the air overhead -became filled with a shrill confused noise, and, -looking up through my binocular, I saw at a -considerable height an immense body of swallows -travelling in a south-westerly direction. A very -few moments after catching sight of them they -paused in their flight, and, after remaining a short -time at one point, looking like a great swarm of -bees, they began rushing wildly about, still keeping -up their shrill excited twittering, and coming lower -and lower by degrees; and finally, in batches of -two or three hundred birds, they rushed down like -lightning into the dark reeds, shower following -shower of swallows at intervals of two or three -seconds, until the last had vanished and the night -was silent again. -</p> - -<p> -It was time for them to go, for though the days were -warm and food abundant, the nights were growing cold. -</p> - -<p> -<span class="pagenum">{<a id="P306"></a>306}</span> -</p> - -<p> -The early hours are silent, except for the brown -owls that hoot round the cottage from about four -o'clock until dawn. Then they grow silent, and the -morning is come, cold and misty, and all the land -is hidden by a creeping white river-mist. The sun -rises, and is not seen for half an hour, then appears -pale and dim, but grows brighter and warmer by -degrees; and in a little while, lo! the mist has -vanished, except for a white rag, clinging like torn -lace here and there to the valley reeds and rushes. -Again, the green earth, wetted with mist and dews, -and the sky of that soft pure azure of yesterday and -of many previous days. Again the birds are vocal; -the rooks rise from the woods, an innumerable cawing -multitude, their voices filling the heavens with noise -as they travel slowly away to their feeding-grounds -on the green open downs; the starlings flock to the -bushes, and the feasting and chatter and song begin -that will last until evening. The sun sets crimson -and the robins sing in the night and silence. But it -is not silent long; before dark the brown owls begin -hooting, first in the woods, then fly across to the -trees that grow beside the cottage, so that we may -the better enjoy their music. At intervals, too we -hear the windy sibilant screech of the white owl -across the valley. Then the wild cry of the -stone-curlew is heard as the lonely bird wings his way -past, and after that late voice there is perfect silence, -with starlight or moonlight. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap15"></a></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum">{<a id="P307"></a>307}</span></p> - -<h3> -INDEX -</h3> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Account of English Ants</i>, by the -Rev. W. Gould, quoted, <a href="#P88">88</a>, <a href="#P93">93</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Adder, life remaining in severed -head of, <a href="#P76">76</a>; its basking-place, -<a href="#P80">80</a>; its consciousness -of human presence, <a href="#P82">82</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -"Adder-stinger," New Forest -name for the dragon-fly, <a href="#P121">121</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Agarics eaten by squirrels, <a href="#P106">106</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Alarm-cries of birds, <a href="#P94">94</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Alga, an aerial, <a href="#P195">195</a>; still -essentially a water-plant, <a href="#P195">195</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -America, South, dragon-flies in, -<a href="#P122">122</a>; the camaloté in, <a href="#P286">286</a>; a -wasp experience in, <a href="#P129">129</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Anax imperator</i> in the New -Forest, <a href="#P118">118</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Anglers, swifts occasionally -caught by, <a href="#P265">265</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Anglo-Saxon settlers, a conquering -race, <a href="#P228">228</a>, <a href="#P230">230</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Ants, removal of dead by, <a href="#P87">87</a>; -behaviour of, towards queen, -<a href="#P88">88</a>; caterpillar hunting by, -<a href="#P92">92</a>; vast populations of, <a href="#P111">111</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Arum, berries of, eaten by birds, -<a href="#P298">298</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Asilus</i>, a rapacious fly, <a href="#P46">46</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Associations, sympathy with -lower animals due to human, -<a href="#P43">43</a>, <a href="#P46">46</a>; memories recalled by, -<a href="#P107">107-109</a>; value of, in matters -of faith, <a href="#P186">186</a>; charm due to, -<a href="#P286">286</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Autumn in the New Forest, <a href="#P1">1</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Bank-vole and hornet, <a href="#P9">9</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Bankes, Mr. E. A., his observation -of nightjars, <a href="#P39">39</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Barrow on the heath, the, <a href="#P48">48-52</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Beaulieu, historical associations -of, <a href="#P36">36</a>; a heath near, <a href="#P38">38</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Beddoes, Thomas Lovell, quoted -as to the fire-fly, <a href="#P125">125</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Bellamy, J. C., his <i>Natural -History of North Devon</i> -referred to, <a href="#P251">251</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Bird-life, annual destruction of, -<a href="#P26">26</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Birds near the Boldre, <a href="#P6">6</a>; their -silence in late summer, <a href="#P89">89</a>; -mixed gatherings of, <a href="#P90">90</a>; -alarm cries of, <a href="#P94">94</a>; by the -Itchen, <a href="#P249">249</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Blackbird, mortality among -young of, <a href="#P56">56</a>; an orphan, -by the Itchen, <a href="#P270">270</a>; tamed -by feeding, <a href="#P272">272</a>; gregarious -instinct in the young, <a href="#P274">274</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Blackburn, Mrs. Hugh, her -account of the young cuckoo, -<a href="#P14">14</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Blackmoor, church at, <a href="#P191">191</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Boldre or Lymington river, <a href="#P3">3</a>; a -house by the, <a href="#P4">4</a>; between the -Exe and the, <a href="#P29">29</a>, <a href="#P35">35</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Bourne, the, or Selborne stream, -<a href="#P171">171</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Boy, a New Forest, <a href="#P158">158</a>; his -ignorance of the Forest wild -life, <a href="#P159">159</a>; a naturalist, <a href="#P295">295</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Boys, stray, in Wolmer, <a href="#P216">216</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Bracken, possible cause of -pleasure in appearance of, -<a href="#P63">63</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Brockenhurst, <i>Croöleptus -iolithus</i> on gravestones at, <a href="#P195">195</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Bullfinches, <a href="#P188">188</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Bunting, four kinds of, by the -Itchen, <a href="#P278">278</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Butterflies of the New Forest, -<a href="#P117">117</a>; moths and, collectors of, -<a href="#P120">120</a>; English names of, <a href="#P120">120</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Calopteryx virgo</i> in the Forest, -<a href="#P118">118</a>; colouring of, <a href="#P122">122</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Camaloté, its appearance -recalled by mimulus, <a href="#P286">286</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Cats, Egyptian, story of their -fascination by fire, <a href="#P99">99</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Cattle tormented by forest flies, -<a href="#P66">66</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Celt, the black, Iberian origin of, -<a href="#P236">236</a>; Huxley, a specimen of -the, <a href="#P240">240</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Chaffinch, its especial dread of -the weasel, <a href="#P94">94-96</a>; arum -berries eaten by the, <a href="#P298">298</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Chalk-pit by the Itchen, fruit -harvest for birds in, <a href="#P299">299</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Churches of Hampshire villages, -<a href="#P184">184</a>; Gilbert White's -strictures on, <a href="#P184">184</a>; their charm, -<a href="#P185">185</a>; wanton destruction of, -<a href="#P186">186</a>; their harmony with -their surroundings, <a href="#P187">187</a>, <a href="#P190">190</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Cicada anglica</i>, doubt as to his -song, <a href="#P135">135</a>, <a href="#P136">136</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Cirl-bunting, the, at Selborne, -<a href="#P172">172</a>; quality of its voice, <a href="#P173">173</a>; -not distinguished by White -from the yellowhammer, <a href="#P173">173</a>; -by the Itchen, <a href="#P250">250</a>; his song, -<a href="#P251">251</a>; his plumage, <a href="#P251">251</a>; its -late breeding, <a href="#P275">275</a>; its breeding -habits, <a href="#P275">275</a>; its warning -note, <a href="#P276">276</a>; safeguarding of -young by, <a href="#P276">276</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Cladothrix odorifera</i>, scent of -fresh earth due to, <a href="#P154">154</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Cockchafer grubs sought for by -starlings, <a href="#P57">57</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Cockerel and martins at Selborne, <a href="#P166">166</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Cole-tit, honeysuckle berries -eaten by, <a href="#P298">298</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Contrast a source of enjoyment, -<a href="#P203">203</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Coot, the, on the Itchen, <a href="#P253">253</a>, -<a href="#P254">254</a>; his struggles with grebe -for water-weed, <a href="#P255">255</a>; his -parental wisdom, <a href="#P256">256</a>; -greediness of young corrected by, -<a href="#P257">257</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Cordulegaster annulatus</i>, <a href="#P118">118</a>; -his serpent-like colouring, -<a href="#P121">121</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Courtship by stag-beetle, <a href="#P71">71</a>; -among the green grasshoppers, -<a href="#P151">151</a>; among the flower-spiders, <a href="#P156">156</a>, <a href="#P159">159</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Craig, Mr., his observations on -the nestling cuckoo, <a href="#P21">21</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Creighton, Dr., on the young -cuckoo question, <a href="#P14">14</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Crickets, house and field, their -music compared, <a href="#P169">169</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Croöleptus iolithus</i>, beautiful -tints of the, <a href="#P195">195</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Crowhurst, hollow yew tree at, -<a href="#P199">199</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Cuckoo, young, its behaviour, -<a href="#P13">13</a>; in robin's nest, <a href="#P15">15</a>; its -rapid growth, <a href="#P15">15</a>; its -spasmodic efforts to eject -obstacles, <a href="#P16">16-20</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Dabchick, <i>see</i> Grebe, little -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Dark people in Hampshire, <a href="#P231">231</a>; -two types of them, <a href="#P231">231</a>; -mutual distrust between -blonde and, <a href="#P234">234</a>; Iberian -origin of one type <a href="#P236">236</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Dark Water, the, <a href="#P38">38</a>; flies on -the, <a href="#P67">67</a>; <i>Calopteryx virgo</i> on -the, <a href="#P122">122</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -"Deadman's Plack," memorial -cross at, <a href="#P140">140</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Death, life-appearances after, -<a href="#P77">77</a>; unknown to lower -animals, <a href="#P86">86</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Death of Fergus</i> quoted as to the -yew, <a href="#P196">196</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Degeneration, Ray Lankester -on, <a href="#P149">149</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Dog, his recollection of a hidden -bone, <a href="#P108">108</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Domestication, change in habits -caused by, <a href="#P169">169</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Dragon-flies, lack of English -names for, <a href="#P118">118</a>; their strange -appearance, <a href="#P121">121</a>; a flight of -blue, settled on bracken, <a href="#P123">123</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Drayton, Michael, quoted as to -the coot, <a href="#P258">258</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Drumming or bleating of snipe, -<a href="#P40">40</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Drumming-trees of woodpeckers, <a href="#P11">11-13</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Dust-bath, a wren's enjoyment -of a, <a href="#P296">296</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Earth, odour of, <a href="#P154">154</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Edgar, King, memorial of his -murder of Athelwold, <a href="#P140">140</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Eggs, ejection of, by young -cuckoo, <a href="#P16">16-19</a>, <a href="#P22">22</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Elaboration and degeneration, -<a href="#P148">148</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Elderberries by the Itchen, <a href="#P298">298</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Emblems on old gravestones, <a href="#P193">193</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Epeira</i>, grasshopper killed by, <a href="#P44">44</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Ephemerę, destruction of, by -swifts, <a href="#P267">267</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Exe, valley of the, <a href="#P35">35</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Eye colours, racial feeling with -regard to, <a href="#P234">234</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Family, a more or less happy, -<a href="#P254">254</a>, <a href="#P258">258</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Farringdon, cirl bunting at, <a href="#P173">173</a>; -Gilbert White curate at, <a href="#P197">197</a>; -yew tree at, <a href="#P198">198</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Fascination, question of, <a href="#P95">95</a>; -the weasel's method of, <a href="#P96">96</a>; -as exerted on mammals, <a href="#P97">97</a>; -inquiry as to interpretation -of, <a href="#P101">101</a>; its disadvantage to -those subject to it, <a href="#P102">102</a>; as -exerted by diving-birds on -fishes, <a href="#P262">262</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Fear, paralysing effect of, on -birds and mammals, <a href="#P96">96-100</a>; -on fishes, <a href="#P262">262</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -"Fiddlers," flies eaten by, <a href="#P68">68</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Field-crickets, sound of, <a href="#P169">169</a>; a -colony of, near Southampton, -<a href="#P170">170</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Fire, fascination of, for cats, -<a href="#P99">99</a>; for certain Hampshire -pigs, <a href="#P101">101</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Fire-fly, comparison of, with -glow-worm, <a href="#P124">124</a>; described -by Beddoes, <a href="#P125">125</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Fish, capture of, by diving-birds, <a href="#P262">262</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Fishing, instruction in, given by -parent grebes, <a href="#P261">261</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Flavour, purple, of certain fruits, -<a href="#P283">283</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Fleas, their adaptation in size to -their host, <a href="#P104">104</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Forest fly, his tenacity, <a href="#P34">34</a>; -cattle tormented by, <a href="#P66">66</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Fox, alarm cry of birds at sight -of, <a href="#P94">94</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Fritillary, silver-washed, <a href="#P117">117</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Gauchos, singing contests -among the, <a href="#P146">146</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Gentry, the, a mixed race, -<a href="#P222">222</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Gipsies of the South of England, -<a href="#P158">158</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Glow-worm, shining of, after -death, <a href="#P78">78</a>; impression -produced by light of, <a href="#P124">124</a>; -comparison of, with the fire-fly, -<a href="#P124">124</a>; quality of its light, <a href="#P125">125</a>; -doubts as to purpose of the -light, <a href="#P127">127</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Goldfinch, the, by the Itchen, -<a href="#P249">249</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -"Good-for-nothing grass," <a href="#P141">141</a>, -<a href="#P147">147</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Gould, Rev. W., his <i>Account of -English Ants</i> quoted, <a href="#P88">88</a>, <a href="#P93">93</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Grass, false brome, great -grasshoppers in the, <a href="#P141">141</a>; floating, -in Hampshire rivers, <a href="#P243">243</a>, <a href="#P293">293</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Grasshopper, spider and, <a href="#P43">43</a>; -black, <i>see Thamnotrizon</i>; great -green, <a href="#P134">134</a>, <a href="#P137">137</a>; his music, -<a href="#P138">138</a>; rival minstrelsy of, <a href="#P142">142</a>; -kicking and biting, <a href="#P144">144</a>; the -female, <a href="#P147">147</a>; her character -and habits, <a href="#P149">149-152</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Grave, single, under the -Selborne yew, <a href="#P202">202</a>, <a href="#P218">218</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Gravestones, old, their beauty, -<a href="#P192">192</a>; their sculptured -emblems, <a href="#P193">193</a>; nature's softening -touches on, <a href="#P194">194</a>; under the -Hurstbourne Priors yew, <a href="#P201">201</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Grebe, the little, a persecuted -bird, <a href="#P254">254</a>; attentions to his -mate, <a href="#P255">255</a>; his breeding -difficulties, <a href="#P260">260</a>; his dogged -perseverance, <a href="#P260">260</a>; fishing taught -by parents to the young, <a href="#P261">261</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Habit, tyranny of, <a href="#P165">165</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Hampshire, characteristics of -the people of, <a href="#P220">220</a>; blonde -and dark types in, <a href="#P224">224</a>; -blonde type a mixed race, -<a href="#P227">227</a>; Saxon race in, <a href="#P227">227</a>; -the dark type, <a href="#P231">231</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Harewood Forest, colony of -great green grasshoppers in, -<a href="#P140">140</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Harris, Moses, his <i>Exposition of -English Insects</i> quoted, <a href="#P119">119</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Harvest mouse feeding on dock -seed, <a href="#P8">8</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Hawfinch, hunger cry of young, -<a href="#P92">92</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Hawking Club, extermination of -stone-curlews by, <a href="#P293">293</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Hawk-moth and meadow-pipit, -<a href="#P116">116</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Herodotus quoted as to -behaviour of cats fascinated by -fire, <a href="#P99">99</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Herons at Hollywater Clump, -<a href="#P210">210</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Hollywater Clump, <a href="#P209">209</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Honeysuckle, night fragrance -of, <a href="#P58">58</a>, <a href="#P270">270</a>; berries of, eaten -by cole-tit, <a href="#P298">298</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Horn-blower, the Selborne, <i>see</i> -Newland -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Hornet, bank-vole and, <a href="#P9">9</a>; fine -appearance of the, <a href="#P128">128</a>; a -South American, <a href="#P129">129</a>; his -rarity, <a href="#P130">130</a>; in late autumn, -<a href="#P131">131</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Horse-ants, struggle of, with -caterpillar, <a href="#P92">92</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -"Horse-stingers," <a href="#P121">121</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -House-crickets, their -abundance at Selborne <a href="#P168">168</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -House-martins, diminished -number of, at Selborne, <a href="#P174">174</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Humming-bird hawk-moth, -beauty of, <a href="#P113">113</a>, <a href="#P115">115</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Hunger cry of young birds, -parental sensibility to, <a href="#P23">23</a>, -<a href="#P91">91</a>; of young blackbird, <a href="#P55">55</a>; -of young cirl bunting, <a href="#P277">277</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Hurstbourne Priors, yew tree in -churchyard at, <a href="#P201">201</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Huxley on the non-Saxon shape -of English heads, <a href="#P231">231</a>; quoted -as to his own parentage, <a href="#P240">240</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Iberian type in Hampshire, -<a href="#P235">235</a>; its persistence, <a href="#P236">236</a>; its -possible restoration, <a href="#P237">237</a>; its -dominant qualities, <a href="#P238">238</a>, <a href="#P239">239</a>; -Huxley's mother an example -of the, <a href="#P240">240</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Influences, pre-natal, possible -results of, <a href="#P100">100</a>; over-susceptibility -possibly due to, <a href="#P102">102</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Insect life, sound of, <a href="#P65">65</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Insect notables, <a href="#P113">113</a>, <a href="#P123">123</a>, <a href="#P130">130</a>, -<a href="#P177">177</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Insects, honey-eating, in lime -trees, <a href="#P248">248</a>; rapacious, -caterpillars destroyed by, <a href="#P92">92</a>; -comparative fewness of, in -Britain, <a href="#P110">110</a>; as viewed by -the indoor mind, <a href="#P111">111</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Instinct, possible over-elaboration -of, <a href="#P102">102</a>, <a href="#P148">148</a>, <a href="#P262">262</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Ironstone in Wolmer Forest, <a href="#P205">205</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Itchen, the river, compared with -the Test, <a href="#P245">245</a>; a fishing -cottage by the, <a href="#P245">245</a>, <a href="#P296">296</a>; -water-birds on the, <a href="#P252">252</a> <i>et seqq.</i>; an -old cottage by the, <a href="#P300">300</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Ivy blossoms, insects feasting -on, <a href="#P131">131</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Jackdaw, the, a wind lover, <a href="#P211">211</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Jay, the, a caterpillar hunter, -<a href="#P91">91</a>; in Harewood Forest, <a href="#P140">140</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Jenner, Dr., his account of the -young cuckoo, <a href="#P13">13</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Jute type of man in Hampshire, -<a href="#P222">222</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Kestrels with young, <a href="#P65">65</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -"Kingfisher," an old name for -dragon-fly, <a href="#P120">120</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Kingfisher, capture of a, <a href="#P296">296</a>; -nesting in chalk-pit, <a href="#P298">298</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Langland, quotation from, <a href="#P52">52</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Leaves, tint of fallen, <a href="#P2">2</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Life-principle, divisibility of, <a href="#P75">75</a>, -<a href="#P76">76</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Lime-trees by the Itchen cottage, -<a href="#P246">246</a>, <a href="#P248">248</a>; bird visitors -to the, <a href="#P248">248</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Ling, beauty of, in Wolmer -Forest, <a href="#P204">204</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Locust family, England their -northern limit, <a href="#P177">177</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Locusta viridissima</i>, see -Grasshopper, the great green -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Loe, Mr., his <i>Yew Trees of Great -Britain and Ireland</i> referred -to, <a href="#P200">200</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Lucas, Mr. W. T., his monograph -on British dragon-flies -quoted, <a href="#P122">122</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Lymington river, <i>see</i> Boldre -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Lyndhurst, <a href="#P154">154</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Mallards in Wolmer, <a href="#P213">213</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Mammals, woodland tint of, <a href="#P2">2</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Martyr Worthy, a little dark -girl at, <a href="#P240">240</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Mayfly, the, decrease in its -numbers, <a href="#P266">266</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Meadow-pipit, its struggle with -hawk-moth, <a href="#P116">116</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Memory, lower kind of, <a href="#P108">108</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Migration, gradual, of swallows, -<a href="#P304">304</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Mimulus luteus</i> in Hampshire, -<a href="#P283">283</a>; purity of its colour, <a href="#P284">284</a>; -South American associations -with, <a href="#P286">286</a>; as a British plant, -<a href="#P287">287</a>; its wide British range, -<a href="#P287">287</a>; at Swarraton, <a href="#P291">291</a>; old -woman's early memories of, -<a href="#P292">292</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Mitford, Miss, on the lack of -beauty in Berkshire faces, -<a href="#P182">182</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Mob, the Selborne, <a href="#P206">206</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Monograph on fleas wanted, -<a href="#P105">105</a>; on man in Hampshire -wanted, <a href="#P222">222</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Monographs, Huxley on the peril -of, <a href="#P105">105</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Moor-hen, an inquisitive, <a href="#P213">213</a>; -the, on the Itchen, <a href="#P253">253</a>; nest -of, on floating water-weeds, -<a href="#P254">254</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Mosaics, cause of pleasure given -by sight of, <a href="#P64">64</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Moth, death's-head, its beauty, -<a href="#P115">115</a>; and rarity, <a href="#P116">116</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Musk mallow, the, at Selborne, -<a href="#P171">171</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Names, English, lack of, for -dragon-flies, <a href="#P118">118</a>, <a href="#P120">120</a>; for -insects, <a href="#P178">178</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Neolithic times, Iberians in -Britain during, <a href="#P236">236</a>, <a href="#P237">237</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Nestlings, ejection of, by cuckoo, -<a href="#P16">16-23</a>; strange coloration of, -<a href="#P15">15</a>, <a href="#P294">294</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -New Forest, abuses of the, <a href="#P29">29</a>; -paucity of wild life in, <a href="#P31">31</a>; its -future management, <a href="#P33">33</a>; -butterflies of the, <a href="#P117">117</a>; hornets -in the, <a href="#P130">130</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Newland, the Selborne hornblower, -<a href="#P206">206</a>, <a href="#P217">217</a>; his capture -and pardon, <a href="#P207">207</a>, <a href="#P218">218</a>; his -grave under the yew tree, <a href="#P218">218</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Newman, Edward, colony of -green grasshoppers mentioned -in his <i>Entomologist</i>, <a href="#P139">139</a>; his -<i>Phytologist</i> referred to as to -the mimulus, <a href="#P288">288</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Nightingale, date of cessation of -its song, <a href="#P89">89</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Nightjar, its care of the young, -<a href="#P39">39</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Nore Hill, view from, <a href="#P183">183</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Norfolk, the churches of, -compared with those of Hants, -<a href="#P185">185</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Northington, immense church -at, <a href="#P290">290</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Oak woods, attractiveness of, -<a href="#P90">90</a>; distinguishing beauty of, -in autumn, <a href="#P280">280</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Oast-house, old, at Farringdon, -<a href="#P198">198</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Open spaces, the love of, <a href="#P38">38</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Ovington, watching swifts at, -<a href="#P266">266</a>; reed-bunting at, <a href="#P278">278</a>; -mimulus blossoming at, <a href="#P286">286</a>; -swallows congregating at, <a href="#P305">305</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Owl, tawny, voice of, <a href="#P4">4</a>; a white, -at Alton, <a href="#P164">164</a>; brown, by the -Itchen, <a href="#P306">306</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Pain, undue sensibility to, <a href="#P25">25</a>; -indispensable to life, <a href="#P26">26</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Parsons, Mr., formerly vicar of -Selborne, <a href="#P218">218</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Peasantry, racial types best -found among the, <a href="#P223">223</a>; ancient -and modern, compared, <a href="#P301">301</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Pen Ponds in Richmond Park, a -coot comedy on, <a href="#P256">256</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Pewit, his wailing complaints, -<a href="#P42">42</a>; a dead young, <a href="#P85">85</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Pigeons, three kinds of, by the -Itchen, <a href="#P249">249</a>; blue colour of -young, <a href="#P294">294</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Pigmentation, variation in -intensity of, <a href="#P233">233</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Pigs, certain, insane attraction -of fire for, <a href="#P101">101</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Pike, its attempt to seize a -swallow, <a href="#P36">36</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Pixie mounds, <a href="#P47">47</a>, <a href="#P48">48</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Polyergus rufescens</i>, over-specialisation -of, <a href="#P149">149</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Polygonum persicaria</i>, coot feeding -on, <a href="#P256">256</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Pond-skaters, flies eaten by, <a href="#P68">68</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Priors Dean, small church at, -<a href="#P188">188</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Privett, large new church at, -<a href="#P190">190</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Queen ant, deferential -treatment of, <a href="#P88">88</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Rabbit, paralysing effect of -stoat's presence on, <a href="#P97">97</a>, <a href="#P100">100</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Races, successive absorption of, -in England, <a href="#P236">236</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Rain, swifts and swallows not -affected by, <a href="#P268">268</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Redshank, breeding of, <a href="#P41">41</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Reed-bunting, song of, <a href="#P278">278</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Ring-dove, young of, <a href="#P294">294</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Robin, cuckoo's egg in nest of, -<a href="#P15">15</a>; ejection of eggs and -young of, by young cuckoo, -<a href="#P16">16-23</a>; an ejected nestling, -<a href="#P22">22</a>; parental insensibility, <a href="#P23">23</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Rose, cult of the, <a href="#P58">58</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Sand-martins, late migration -of, <a href="#P269">269</a>; a dead one, <a href="#P269">269</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Saxon type, the, in Hampshire, -<a href="#P227">227</a>, <a href="#P303">303</a>; occasional reversion -to the, <a href="#P228">228</a>; comparison -of, with Iberian, <a href="#P239">239</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Scent, unpleasing, of yellow -flowers, <a href="#P282">282</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Seebohm on stories of the young -cuckoo, <a href="#P14">14</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Selborne, idle visitors to, <a href="#P161">161</a>; a -second visit to, <a href="#P163">163</a>; bird -incidents observed at, <a href="#P164">164</a>; -a third visit, <a href="#P167">167</a>; temperature -of, <a href="#P168">168</a>; house-crickets -at, <a href="#P168">168</a>; musk mallow in -churchyard, <a href="#P171">171</a>; cirl bunting -at, <a href="#P172">172</a>; its enervating -air, <a href="#P181">181</a>; beauty of the -common, <a href="#P182">182</a>; yew tree in -churchyard, <a href="#P198">198</a>, <a href="#P199">199</a>; the -"mob" at, <a href="#P206">206</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Shepherd near Winchester, his -wages, <a href="#P227">227</a>; a Saxon, on the -downs, <a href="#P229">229</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Shrews, young, <a href="#P10">10</a>; dead, -abundance of fleas on, <a href="#P105">105</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Shrike, red-backed, <a href="#P299">299</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Silchester, mosaics at, <a href="#P64">64</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Snake-skin, apparent continued -vitality of, <a href="#P77">77</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Snipe, breeding habits of, <a href="#P40">40</a>, -<a href="#P41">41</a>; in Wolmer, <a href="#P215">215</a>; beauty -of young, <a href="#P294">294</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Sounds, pleasure in, affected by -conventions, <a href="#P169">169</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -South Hayling, curious yew tree -at, <a href="#P200">200</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Spider killing grasshopper, <a href="#P44">44</a>; -a flower-haunting, <a href="#P155">155</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Squirrel, visit from a, <a href="#P10">10</a>; a -dead, <a href="#P103">103</a>; fatal fall of, <a href="#P104">104</a>; -fleas on, <a href="#P104">104</a>, <a href="#P105">105</a>; his irritable -temper, <a href="#P106">106</a>; his memory of -hidden food, <a href="#P107">107</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Stag-beetle, "stags and does," -<a href="#P69">69</a>; in search of a mate, <a href="#P71">71</a>; -striking a scent, <a href="#P72">72</a>; -unconscious comedy of the, <a href="#P74">74</a>; -life remaining in severed head, -<a href="#P75">75</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Starling, note of, <a href="#P3">3</a>; his search -for cockchafer grubs, <a href="#P57">57</a>; his -untidy habits, <a href="#P210">210</a>; his varied -language, <a href="#P210">210</a>; increase in his -numbers, <a href="#P303">303</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Stoat, rabbit's helplessness when -chased by, <a href="#P97">97</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Stonechat, his note of trouble, -<a href="#P41">41</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Stone-curlews, extermination of, -by Hawking Club, <a href="#P293">293</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Stridulation of grasshoppers, -<a href="#P134">134</a>; of crickets, <a href="#P169">169</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Swallow and pike on the Exe, <a href="#P36">36</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Swarraton, White formerly -curate of, <a href="#P289">289</a>; church at, -pulled down, <a href="#P289">289</a>; changes -in, since White's day, <a href="#P290">290</a>; -old woman's recollections of -mimulus at, <a href="#P292">292</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Swifts, the, at Selborne, <a href="#P172">172</a>, -<a href="#P174">174</a>; evening gatherings of, -<a href="#P175">175</a>; on the Itchen, <a href="#P264">264</a>; -destruction of May flies by, -<a href="#P267">267</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Swinton, A. H., quoted as to -<i>Cicada anglica</i>, <a href="#P135">135</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Teal, Wolmer a breeding-place -of, <a href="#P212">212</a>; his lively disposition, -<a href="#P214">214</a>, <a href="#P215">215</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Thamnotrizon cinereus</i> at -Selborne, <a href="#P177">177</a>; his habits, <a href="#P178">178</a>; -voice and disposition, <a href="#P179">179</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -<i>Thomisus citreus</i>, its habits, -<a href="#P155">155</a>; its wooing antics, <a href="#P156">156</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Thrush, young, <a href="#P55">55</a>; arum -berries eaten by, <a href="#P298">298</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Tidbury Ring, <a href="#P295">295</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Tit, long-tailed, nest of, <a href="#P7">7</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Traherne, Thomas, quoted, <a href="#P38">38</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Trees, age of, <a href="#P199">199</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Turtle-doves in Wolmer, <a href="#P212">212</a>; -appearance of young, <a href="#P294">294</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Varieties, racial, in Southern -English people, <a href="#P220">220</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Vegetation by Hampshire -streams, <a href="#P242">242</a>, <a href="#P243">243</a>, <a href="#P247">247</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Villages, characteristic -Hampshire, along the rivers, <a href="#P243">243</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Viper, <i>see</i> Adder -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Vole hunted by weasel, <a href="#P97">97</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Voles, field and bank, <a href="#P8">8</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Wagtail, a pied, at Selborne, <a href="#P165">165</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Wallace, Dr. A. R., as to the -cuckoo controversy, <a href="#P13">13</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Warning note of cirl bunting, -<a href="#P276">276</a>, <a href="#P277">277</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Water-birds on the Itchen, <a href="#P252">252</a>, -<a href="#P258">258</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Water-keeper on the Itchen, -destruction of grebes' nests by, -<a href="#P254">254</a>; on the Test, his opinion -as to dragon-flies, <a href="#P119">119</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Water-rail on the Itchen, <a href="#P259">259</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Watson, William, on -"world-strangeness," <a href="#P47">47</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Weasel, the, his place in nature, -<a href="#P7">7</a>; dreaded by small birds, -<a href="#P94">94</a>; his fascination-dance, -<a href="#P95">95</a>; his pursuit of field-vole, -<a href="#P97">97</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Wheatham Hill, wide view from, -<a href="#P184">184</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -White admiral, <a href="#P117">117</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -White, Gilbert, his strictures -on Hampshire churches, <a href="#P184">184</a>; -his connection with Farringdon, -<a href="#P197">197</a>; Farringdon yew -not mentioned by, <a href="#P199">199</a>; vain -attempts after reminiscences -of, <a href="#P206">206</a>; his description of -Wolmer Forest, <a href="#P210">210</a>; his -curacy at Swarraton, <a href="#P289">289</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Whitethroat attacked by lesser -whitethroat, <a href="#P61">61</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Whitethroat, lesser, song of, <a href="#P60">60</a>, -<a href="#P138">138</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Wild musk at Selborne, <a href="#P171">171</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Willughby, his suggestion as to -colour, <a href="#P37">37</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Wine, elderberry, a forgotten -vintage, <a href="#P301">301</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Wolmer Forest, first impression -of, <a href="#P203">203</a>; colour of streams in, -<a href="#P205">205</a>; Holly-water Clump in, -<a href="#P209">209</a>; White's description of, -<a href="#P210">210</a>; its bird population, <a href="#P211">211</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Woman, a young, of Hampshire -type, <a href="#P232">232</a>; an old, her -recollection of wild musk, <a href="#P292">292</a>; an -old, a praiser of past times,300 -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Wood owl, carrying power of -voice of, <a href="#P4">4</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Woodpeckers, green, drumming -by, <a href="#P9">9</a>; in Hollywater Clump, -<a href="#P210">210</a>; great spotted, <a href="#P12">12</a>; small -spotted, <a href="#P12">12</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Wren, its continued use of old -nest, <a href="#P297">297</a>; its sun-bath, <a href="#P297">297</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Wren, golden-crested, nest of, <a href="#P6">6</a> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="index"> -Yellow flowers, want of -attraction in, <a href="#P282">282</a>; the smell -of, <a href="#P282">282</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Yellowhammer not distinguished -by White from the -cirl bunting, <a href="#P173">173</a> -</p> - -<p class="index"> -Yew tree, at Priors Dean, <a href="#P190">190</a>; -its association with the dead, -<a href="#P196">196</a>; called the "Hampshire -weed," <a href="#P197">197</a>; at Farringdon, -<a href="#P197">197</a>, <a href="#P199">199</a>; at Selborne, <a href="#P198">198</a>, -<a href="#P218">218</a>; slow growth of, <a href="#P199">199</a>; -growth of new bark in, <a href="#P199">199</a>; -at Crowhurst, <a href="#P199">199</a>; at -Hurstbourne Priors, <a href="#P201">201</a>; possible -injury to roots of, from -grave-digging, <a href="#P201">201</a> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t4"> - PRINTED BY<br /> - THE TEMPLE PRESS AT LETCHWORTH<br /> - IN GREAT BRITAIN<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Hampshire Days, by W. 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