134 THE CRUISE OF THE ROVER CARAVAN

“Listen !” said Douglas, lifting a finger. ‘Oh, isn’t
it beautiful !”

High in the air; low towards the ground; above
them on the hills; from every direction, indeed, came
the joyous gushing music of the larks. It was
mingled now and then with the bleating of distant
lambs, and with the chirping of the grasshoppers close
at hand, and yet there was no seeming confusion. A
thousand bird voices must have aided to form that
bird concert, but it was melody nevertheless, without
one harsh or discordant note.

Both boys were silent. Both were impressed.
Worthless the heart, indeed, who amidst scenes like
these could not

“Look through nature up to nature’s God.”

To-night, before the “ Rover” found a haven of rest in
a cosy meadow, which she did towards sunset, it had
come on to rain and to blow, and there was every
appearance that the weather had broken.

Gipsies get all kinds of weather, however, and must
be content to take it as it comes.

The coupé canvas was got up long before dark, and
the tiny caravan was made snug in a distant corner
under a tree.

Then tea was brewed and lamps were lit; and
inside, despite the storm that raged without, everything
was as beautiful as the saloon of a yacht at sea,

At the little cosy country inns at which, for stabling
for the horses, they were obliged to put up every night,