The scenery about this sacred spot is pretty enough, but we did not greatly admire the stone itself. Nor did Hurricane Bob, though he paid his respects to it after his own canine fashion.
It somewhat detracts from the romance of the place that close adjoining you can have three shies at a cocoa-nut for a penny. I spent a shilling unsuccessfully; Inie knocked one down at the first shot, and Bob, not to be behindhand, watched his chance and stole one, for which may goodness forgive him.
I wish I could spare space to say something about the birds and beasts and creeping things of the Forest, and about its wild flowers, but this chapter the reader will doubtless think too long already.
I must mention Forest flies and snakes, however. Of the latter we saw none in the wilds, but the well-known snake-catcher of the New Forest, who supplies the Zoological Gardens, paid us a visit at the caravan, and brought with him some splendid specimens. Many of these were very tame, and drank milk from a saucer held to them by my wee girl.
The adders he catches with a very long pair of surgical forceps presented to him by Dr Blaker, of Lyndhurst, whose kindness and hospitality, by-the-bye, to us, will ever dwell in my memory.
We heard great accounts of the Forest flies. They say—though I cannot verify it by my own experience—that long before the transatlantic steamers reach New York, the mosquitoes, satiated with Yankee gore, smell the blood of an Englishman, and come miles to sea to meet him.
And so we were told that the Forest flies would hardly care to bite a Forest horse, but at once attacked a strange one and sent him wild.
Hearing us talk so much about this wondrous Forest fly, it was not unnatural that it should haunt wee Inie’s dreams and assume therein gigantic proportions. One day, when ranging through a thicket—this was before ever we had become acquainted with the fly—we came upon a capital specimen of the tawny owl, winking and blinking on a bough. Inez saw it first.
“Oh, papa,” she cried aghast, “there’s a Forest Fly!”
This put me in mind of the anecdote of the woman who was going out to India with her husband, a soldier in the gallant 42nd.