He has
taken the leadership already, and strides away in front with his
climbing-irons strapped under one arm, his pecking-bag under the other,
and his pockets and hat full of pill-boxes, cotton-wool, and other
etceteras. Each of the others carries a pecking-bag, and East his
hatchet.
When they had crossed three or four fields without a check, Arthur began
to lag; and Tom seeing this shouted to Martin to pull up a bit. "We
ain't out hare-and-hounds. What's the good of grinding on at this rate?"
"There's the Spinney," said Martin, pulling up on the brow of a slope
at the bottom of which lay Lawford brook, and pointing to the top of the
opposite slope; "the nest is in one of those high fir-trees at this end.
And down by the brook there I know of a sedge-bird's nest. We'll go and
look at it coming back."
"Oh, come on, don't let us stop," said Arthur, who was getting excited
at the sight of the wood. So they broke into a trot again, and were soon
across the brook, up the slope, and into the Spinney. Here they advanced
as noiselessly as possible, lest keepers or other enemies should be
about, and stopped at the foot of a tall fir, at the top of which Martin
pointed out with pride the kestrel's nest, the object of their quest.
"Oh, where? which is it?" asks Arthur, gaping up in the air, and having
the most vague idea of what it would be like.
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