Читать книгу Gallybird онлайн

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Charles had been discussing timber with John Douce when Gervase charged in on them.

"In ten years' time we'll be forced to buy our fuel, and that will sink our profits yet lower. The new plantation at Farthingland won't be up before the rest of the forest is down."

"How's that?" said Gervase. "Your trees look well enough?"

He gazed round him at the tall oaks standing about the lawn, and then up at the tree-covered slope of Wagenmary, where the young foliage of oak and ash and beech burned in a yellowish fire against the sky. All about Conster stood the trees, shutting it away from the countryside into the leafy prison of its wealth. The shadows lay dark against the sunlight in the clear heat of spring.

Gervase repeated: "Your trees look well enough."

"Hark!" said Charles.

Through the silence came the rocketing laugh of a woodpecker. Ha-ha-ha-hi!

"The place is infested with gallybirds," said Douce. "What harm can they do?"

"None to a sound tree; but a gallybird never goes to a sound tree. Our trees are rotting, so the gallybirds are in most of 'em."