22 BIRD LIFE GLIMPSES 



joined by a companion- — probably its mate — upon 

 which, as in an excess of glad excitement, it will 

 clap its wings, again, a dozen or score of times in 

 succession. The two then pursue one another, 

 wheeling in swiftest circles and making, often, the 

 most astonishing turns and twists, as they strive 

 either to escape or overtake. Often they will be 

 joined by a third or fourth bird, and more fast, 

 more furious, then, becomes the airy play. No 

 words can give an idea of the extreme beauty of the 

 flight of these birds. In their soft moods they 

 seem to swoon on the air, and, again, they flout, 

 coquette, and play all manner of tricks with it. 

 Grace and jerkiness are qualities quite opposite to 

 each other. The nightjar, when " i' the vein," 

 combines them with easy mastery, and to see this 

 is almost to have a new sensation. It is as though 

 Shakespeare's Ariel were to dance in a pantomime,^ 

 yet still be Shakespeare's Ariel. As one watches 

 such beings in the deepening gloom, they seem not 

 to be real, but parts of the night's pageant only — 

 dusky imaginings, shadows in the shapes of birds. 

 What glorious powers of motion ! One cannot see 

 them without wishing to be one of them. 



I have spoken of the nightjar clapping its wings 

 a dozen or score of times in succession. This is 

 not exaggerated. I have counted up to twenty-five 

 claps myself, and this was less than the real number, 

 as the first tumultuous burst of them was well-nigh 

 over before I began to count. It is not easy, indeed, 

 to keep up with the bird, and when it stops, one is, 



1 Or in The Tempest as produced and acted at Stratford-on- 

 Avon during the last anniversary. 



