The heath was an oasis and a refuge; I rambled about in it until my feet and legs were wet; then I sat down to let them dry and altogether spent several agreeable hours at that spot, pleased at the thought that no human fellow-creature would intrude upon me.

Feathered companions were, however, not wanting.

The crowing of cock pheasants from the thicket beside the old road warned me that I was on preserved grounds.

Not too strictly preserved, however, for there was my old friend the carrion-crow out foraging for his young.

He dropped down over the trees, swept past me, and was gone.