Pair of thrushes in the spinney. Rookery full. Usual butterflies in unusual numbers. Toward twilight several sphinx moths visited the privet. No net at hand so did not identify any. Pheasants in bad shape. Nobody to keep them down. Must arrange drives while I'm away.
Late at night a barn owl in the chapel belfrey. Saw him and heard him. Constance nervous; omens and that sort, I fancy; but no funk. Rotten deal for her."
"Who was Constance?" asked Miss Erith.
"Evidently his wife.... I wish we could get those trinkets to her." His glance shifted back to the pencilled page and presently he read on, aloud: France again. Headquarters. Same rumour that Fritz has something up his sleeve. Conference. Letter from Constance. Wrote her also.
10th inst.: Conference. Interesting theory even if slightly incredible. Wrote Constance.
12th inst.: Another conference. Sir D. Haig. Back to hangar. A nightingale singing, clear and untroubled above the unceasing thunder of the cannonade. Very pretty moth, incognito, came and sat on my sleeve. One of the Noctuidae, I fancy, but don't know generic or specific names. About eleven o'clock Sir D. Haig. Unexpected honour. Sir D. serene and cheerful. Showed him about. He was much amused at my eagle. Explained how I had found him as an eaglet some twenty years ago in America and how he sticks to me like a tame jackdaw.
Told Sir D. that I had been taking him in my air flights everywhere and that he adored it, sitting quite solemnly out of harm's way and, if taking to the air for a bit of exercise, always keeping my plane in view and following it to earth.
Showed Sir D. H. all Manitou's tricks. The old chap did me proud. This was the programme: I.--'Will you cheer for king and country, Manitou?'
Manitou (yelping)--'Houp--gloup--houp!'
I.--'Suppose you were a Hun eagle, Manitou--just a vulgar Boche buzzard?'
Manitou (hanging his head)--'Houp--gloup--houp!'
I.-'But you're not! You're a Yankee eagle! Now give three cheers for Uncle Sam!'
Manitou (head erect)--'Houp--gloup--houp!'
Sir D. convulsed. Ordered a trench-rat for Manitou as usual. While he was discussing it I told Sir D. H. how I could always send Manitou home merely by attaching to his ankle a big whistling-bell of silver.
Explained that Manitou hated it and that I had taught him to fly home when I attached it by arranging that nobody except my wife should ever relieve him of the bell.
It took about two years to teach him where to go for relief.
Sir D, much amused--reluctant to leave. Wrote to Connie later. Bed.