'll come back by the road," thought Vane. "After all it's better and
less tiring."

But with the beeches well in view, he made light of the difficulties of
the little trodden district, which seemed to be quite a sanctuary for
the partridges, three coveys rising, as he went on, with a tremendous
rush and whirr of wing, to fly swiftly for a distance, and then glide on
up and down, rising at clumps of furze, and clearing them, to descend
into hollows and rise again apparently, after the first rush, without
beat of wing.

"It's very curious, that flying," said Vane to himself, as he stood
sheltering his eyes to watch the last covey till it passed out of
sight--"ten of them, and they went along just as if they had nothing to
do but will themselves over the ground. It must be a fine thing to fly.
Find it out some day," he said; and he hurried on again to reach the
spot where a little rill made a demarcation between the sand and bog he
had traversed, and the chalk which rose now in a sharp slope on the
other side.

He drew back a little way, took a run and leaped right across the
cress-bordered clear water, alighting on hard chalk pebbles, and causing
a wild splashing and rustling as a pair of moor-hens rose from amongst
the cress, their hollow wings beating hard, their long green legs and
attenuated toes hanging apparently nerveless beneath them, and giving a
slight glimpse of their coral-coloured beak, and crests and a full view
of the pure white and black of their short barred tail ere they
disappeared amongst the bulrushes which studded one side of the winding
stream.

Vane watched them for a moment or two, and shook his head.

"Partridges beat them hollow. Wonder whether I can find uncle any
truffles."

He made for the shade of the beeches, passing at once on to a crackling
carpet of old beech-mast and half rotten leaves, while all around him
the great trees sent up their wonderfully clean, even-lined trunks, and
boughs laden with dark green leaves, and the bronzy brown-red cases of
the tiny triangular nuts, the former ready now to gape and drop their
sweet contents where those of the past year had fallen before.

"Pity beech-nuts are so small," he said, as he stood looking up in the
midst of a glade where the tall branches of a dozen regularly planted
trees curved over to meet those of another dozen, and touching in the
centre, shutting out the light, and forming a natural cathedral nave,
such as might very w