22 TROPICAL NATURE, AND OTHER ESSAYS. 



about twenty-five minutes from sunset the complete 

 darkness of night is almost reached. In the morning 

 the changes are perhaps even more striking. Up to 

 about a quarter past five o'clock the darkness is complete ; 

 but about that time a few cries of birds begin to break 

 the silence of night, perhaps indicating that signs of 

 dawn are perceptible in the eastern horizon. A little 

 later the melancholy voices of the goatsuckers are heard, 

 varied croakings of frogs, the plaintive whistle of moun- 

 tain thrushes, and strange cries of birds or mammals 

 peculiar to each locality. About half-past five the first 

 glimmer of light becomes perceptible ; it slowly becomes 

 lighter, and then increases so rapidly that at about a 

 quarter to six it seems full daylight. For the next 

 quarter of an hour this changes very little in character ; 

 when, suddenly, the sun's rim appears above the horizon, 

 decking the dew-laden foliage with glittering gems, 

 sending gleams of golden light far into the woods, and 

 waking up all nature to life and activity. Birds chirp 

 and flutter about, parrots scream, monkeys chatter, bees 

 hum among the flowers, and gorgeous butterflies flutter 

 lazily along or sit with fully expanded wings exposed to 

 the warm and invigorating rays. The first hour of 

 morning in the equatorial regions possesses a charm and 

 a beauty that can never be forgotten. All nature seems 

 refreshed and strengthened by the coolness and moisture 

 of the past night ; new leaves and buds unfold almost 

 before the eye, and fresh shoots may often be observed 

 to have grown many inches since the preceding day. 

 The temperature is the most delicious conceivable. The 

 slight chill of early dawn, whicn was itself agreeable, is 

 succeeded by an invigorating warmth ; and the intense 



