shoulders. Now, what might you call a long shoot, Bennet Hatch?"

"Well," said Bennet, looking about him, "it would be a long shoot
from here into the forest."

"Ay, it would be a longish shoot," said the old fellow, turning to
look over his shoulder; and then he put up his hand over his eyes,
and stood staring.

"Why, what are you looking at?" asked Bennet, with a chuckle. "Do,
you see Harry the Fift?"

The veteran continued looking up the hill in silence. The sun
shone broadly over the shelving meadows; a few white sheep wandered
browsing; all was still but the distant jangle of the bell.

"What is it, Appleyard?" asked Dick.

"Why, the birds," said Appleyard.

And, sure enough, over the top of the forest, where it ran down in
a tongue among the meadows, and ended in a pair of goodly green
elms, about a bowshot from the field where they were standing, a
flight of birds was skimming to and fro, in evident disorder.

"What of the birds?" said Bennet.

"Ay!" returned Appleyard, "y' are a wise man to go to war, Master
Bennet. Birds are a good sentry; in forest places they be the
first line of battle. Look you, now, if we lay here in camp, there