slightly
projecting thatch. They have taken refuge too in the nest-holes made in
the thatched eaves of the sheds: tits are there also; and sometimes two
or three of the latter are captured at once in such holes.
A dark line across the lower meadows marks the course of the brook; it
is dark because the snow falling on the water melted. Even now there is
a narrow stream unfrozen; though the banks against which it chafes are
hard, and will not take the impression of the moorhen's foot. The
water-rats that in summertime played and fed along the margin among the
flags are rarely seen in winter. In walking in daylight by the brook now
their plunge into the water will not be heard, nor can they be seen
travelling at the bottom.
They lay up a store of food in a hole away from the stream, generally
choosing the banks or higher ground in the withy-beds--places that are
not often flooded. Their ordinary holes, which are half, and sometimes
quite, under water, will not do for winter; they would be frozen in
them, and perhaps their store of food would be spoiled; besides which
the floods cause the stream to rise above its banks, and they could not
exist under water for weeks together.
Still further down, where the wood ends in scattered bushes and
withy-beds, the level shore of the shallow mere succeeds. The once soft,
oozy ground is now firm; the rushes are frozen stiff, and the ice for
some distance out is darkened by the aquatic weeds frozen in it. From
here the wood, rising up the slope, comes into view at once--the dark
trees, the ash poles, the distant beeches, the white crest of the
hill--all still and calm under the moonlight. The level white plain of
ice behind stretches away, its real extent concealed by the islands of
withy and the dark pines along the distant shore; while elsewhere the
ice is not distinguishable from the almost equally level fields that
join it. Looking now more closely on the snow, the tracks of hares and
rabbits that have crossed and recrossed the ice are visible.
In passing close to the withy-beds to return to the wood some branches
have to be pushed aside and cause a slight noise. Immediately a crowd of
birds rise out of the withies, where they have been roosting, and
scatter into the night. They are redwings and thrushes; every withy-bed
is full of them. After wheeling about in the air they will presently
return--first one, then three or four, and finally the flock, to their
roosting-place.
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