r the bird's-foot lotus
flourished in the sunny places. Farther up, nearer the wood, the lane
became hollow--worn down between high banks, at first clothed with fern,
and then, as the hill got steeper, with fir trees.

Where firs are tall and thick together the sunbeams that fall aslant
between them seem to be made more visible than under other trees, by the
motes or wood dust in the air. Still farther the banks became even
steeper, till nothing but scanty ash stoles could grow upon them, the
fir plantations skirting along the summit. Then suddenly, at a turn, the
ground sank into a deep hollow, where in spring the eye rested with
relief and pleasure on the tops of young firs, acre after acre, just
freshly tinted with the most delicate green. From thence the track went
into the wood.

By day all through the summer months there was always something to be
seen in the lane--a squirrel, a stoat; always a song-bird to listen to,
a flower or fern to gather. By night the goatsucker visited it, and the
bat, and the white owl gliding down the slope. In winter when the clouds
hung low the darkness in the hollow between the high banks, where the
light was shut out by the fir trees, was like that of a cavern. It was
then that night after night a strange procession wended down it.

First came an old man, walking stiffly--not so much from age as
rheumatism--and helping his unsteady steps on the slippery sarsen stones
with a stout ground-ash staff. Behind him followed a younger man, and in
the rear a boy. Sometimes there was an extra assistant, making four;
sometimes there was only the old man and one companion. Each had a long
and strong ash stick across his shoulder, on which a load of rabbits was
slung, an equal number in front and behind, to balance. The old fellow,
who was dressed shabbily even for a labourer, was the contractor for the
rabbits shot or ferreted in these woods.

He took the whole number at a certain fixed price all round, and made
what he could out of them. Every evening in the season he went to the
woods to fetch those that had been captured during the day, conveying
them to his cottage on the outskirts of the village. From thence they
went by carrier's cart to the railway. Old Luke's books, such as they
were, were quite beyond the understanding of any one but himself and his
wife; nor could even they themselves tell you exactly how many dozen he
purchased in the year. But in his cups the wicked old hypocrite