Thenewkeeperhadnodoubtputinfreshpebbles。Sheheardthefainttinkleofwater，asthetinyoverflowtrickledoveranddownhill。Evenabovethehissingboomofthelarchwood，thatspreaditsbristling，leafless，wolfishdarknessonthedown-slope，sheheardthetinkleasoftinywater-bells。
Thisplacewasalittlesinister，cold，damp。Yetthewellmusthavebeenadrinking-placeforhundredsofyears。Nownomore。Itstinyclearedspacewaslushandcoldanddismal。
Sheroseandwentslowlytowardshome。Asshewentsheheardafainttappingawayontheright，andstoodstilltolisten。Wasithammering，orawoodpecker？Itwassurelyhammering。
Shewalkedon，listening。Andthenshenoticedanarrowtrackbetweenyoungfir-trees，atrackthatseemedtoleadnowhere。Butshefeltithadbeenused。Sheturneddownitadventurously，betweenthethickyoungfirs，whichgavewaysoontotheoldoakwood。Shefollowedthetrack，andthehammeringgrewnearer，inthesilenceofthewindywood，fortreesmakeasilenceevenintheirnoiseofwind。
Shesawasecretlittleclearing，andasecretlittlehotmadeofrusticpoles。Andshehadneverbeenherebefore!Sherealizeditwasthequietplacewherethegrowingpheasantswerereared；thekeeperinhisshirt-sleeveswaskneeling，hammering。Thedogtrottedforwardwithashort，sharpbark，andthekeeperliftedhisfacesuddenlyandsawher。Hehadastartledlookinhiseyes。