MIGRATIONS. 187 



in song ! These two, then, have consummated life ; a virtue has 

 gone out from them ; an age ah'eady separates them from the fresh 

 energy of their apring. 



Many would remain, but a goad impels them forward. Tlie 

 slowest are the most ardent. The French quail will traverse the 

 Mediten-anean, will cross the range of Atlas ; sweeping over the 

 Sahara, it will plunge into the kingdoms of the negro ; these, too, it 

 will leave behind ; and, finally, if it pauses at the Cape, it is because 

 there the infinite Austral ocean commences, which promises it no nearer 

 shelter than the icy wastes of the Pole, and the very winter which 

 exiled it from Egypt. 



What gives them confidence for such enterprises ? Some may 

 trust to their arms, the weakest to their numbers, and abandon 

 themselves to fate. The stock-dove says : " Out of ten or a hundred 

 thousand the assassin cannot slay moi'e than ten, and doubtlessly I 

 shall not be one of the victims." They seize their opportunity ; the 

 flying cloud passes at rdght ; if the moon rise, against her silver 

 radiance the black wings stand out clear and distinct ; they escape, 

 confused, in her pale lustre. The valiant lark, the national bird of 

 our ancient Gaul and of the invincible hope, also trusts to his 

 numbers ; he sets out in the day-time, or rather, he wanders from 

 province to province ; decimated, hunted, he does not the less give 

 utterance to his song. 



But the lonely bird, which has neither the support of numbers 

 nor of strength, what will become of him ? Wliat wilt thou do, poor 

 solitary nightingale, which, like others of thy race, must confront this 

 gi'eat adventure, but without assistance, without comrades? Thou, what 

 art thou, friend ? A voice ! The very power which is in thee wiW 

 be thy betrayal. In thy sombre attire, thou might well pass unseen 

 by blending with the tints of the discoloured woods of autumn. But 

 see now ! The leaf is still purple ; it wears not the dull dead brown 

 of the later months. 



Ah, why dost tlu^u not remaui ? why not imitate the timorous- 

 ness of those birds which in such myriads fly no further than 



