I told the man that I would have to be on my way and thanked him emphatically

for his assistance. He was, after all, an amiable fellow, taking the trouble to

guide me in reversing out through the gateway, and before I parted, he bent down

and recommended again that I visit the local pond, repeating his instructions on

how I would find it.

 

"It's a beautiful little spot," he added. "You'll kick yourself for missing it.

In fact, the Colonel's doing a bit of fishing there this minute."

 

The Ford seemed to be in fine form again, and since the pond in question was but

a small detour off my route, I decided to take up the batman's suggestion. His

directions had seemed clear enough, but once I had turned off the main road in

an attempt to follow them, I found myself getting lost down narrow, twisting

lanes much like the one in which I had first noticed the alarming smell. At

times, the foliage on either side became so thick as practically to blot out the

sun altogether, and one found one's eyes struggling to cope with the sudden

contrasts of bright sunlight and deep shade. Eventually, however, after some

searching, I found a signpost to 'Mortimer's Pond', and so it was that I arrived

here at this spot a little over half an hour ago.

 

I now find myself much indebted to the batman, for quite aside from assisting

with the Ford, he has allowed me to discover a most charming spot which it is

most improbable I would ever have found otherwise. The pond is not a large one -

a quarter of a mile around its perimeter perhaps - so that by stepping out to

any promontory, one can command a view of its entirety. An atmosphere of great