heeding whither we went. There are no woods so silent as the nut-tree;
there is scarce a sound in them at that time except the occasional
rustle of a rabbit, and the 'thump, thump' they sometimes make
underground in their buries after a sudden fright. So that the keen
plaintive whistle of a kingfisher was almost startling. But we soon
found the stream in the hollow. Broader than a brook and yet not quite a
river, it flowed swift and clear, so that every flint at the bottom was
visible. The nut-tree bushes came down to the edge: the ground was too
firm for much rush or sedge; the streams that come out of the chalk are
not so thickly fringed with vegetation as others.

Some little way along there was a rounded sarsen boulder not far from
shore, whose brown top was so nearly on a level with the surface that at
one moment the water just covered it, and the next left it exposed. By
it we spied a trout; but the hill above gave 'Velvet' the command of the
hollow; and it was too risky even to think of. After that the nuts were
tame; there was nothing left but to turn homewards. As for
trout-fishing, there is nothing so easy. Take the top joint off the rod,
and put the wire on the second, which is stronger, fill the basket, and
replace the fly. There were fellows who used to paddle in canoes up a
certain river (not this little stream), pick out the largest trout, and
shoot them with pistols, under pretence of practising at water-rats.





CHAPTER V