NOCTURNAL BTEDS. 227 



sliv and recluse bird, if bird it is, was doubtless aware 

 of the intrusion, and on its guard. Once I heard it under 

 peculiarly wild circumstances. I was riding late at night, 

 and just at midnight came to a very lonely part of the 

 road, where the black forest rose on each side. Every- 

 thing was profoundly still, and the measured tramp of 

 my horse's feet on the frozen road was felt as a relief to 

 the deep and oppressive silence ; when, suddenly, from 

 the sombre woods, rose the clear metallic tinkle of the 

 whetsaw. The sound, all unexpected as it was, was very 

 striking, and, though it was bitterly cold, I drew up for 

 some time to listen to it. In the darkness and silence of 

 the hour, that regularly measured sound, proceeding too 

 from so gloomy a spot, had an effect on my mind, solemn 

 and unearthly, yet not unmingled with pleasure. 



It is doubtless the mystery in such cases that mainly 

 constitutes the charm. In Jamaica I used to hear fre- 

 quently a querulous cry, ''kep, kep, kep," — uttered in 

 the air after night-fall by some creature which flew round 

 in a great circle, but was invisible. Now and then the 

 utterance was varied by a most demoniac shriek or two, 

 and then the call went on as before. I was exceedingly 

 interested in this, till I ascertained that it was the white 

 owl, and obtained a specimen, after which the romantic 

 feelino* with which I had listened to it was no lono-er 

 awakened by the sound. 



In some parts of this country the peasantry hear with 

 superstitious awe the hollow booming note of the bittern, 

 proceeding from the lonely marsh in the stillness of the 



