220 A SUMMER NIGHT IN THE WOODS. 



of the day. At intervals, for the space of an hour after 

 dusk, an occasional note of complaint is heard in the 

 thicket from different birds, a shrill chirp from some 

 of the little sylvias, the mewing of the catbird among the 

 alders, and the querulous smack of the red thrush. 



Sometimes for several minutes hardly a voice from any 

 creature is heard, and the rustling of the night-wind 

 through the tremulous leaves of the poplar, or its moaning 

 among the high branches of the pine, resembling the 

 murmurs of distant waters, are the only sounds that meet 

 the ear. But this dreary stillness is not of long dura- 

 tion. "The droning flight of the beetle, and the whirring 

 of various kind of moths that are busy among the foliage 

 of the trees, are the accompaniments of a summer night, 

 suggesting to the fancy the passing of a ghost, and filling 

 the mind with many mysterious conjectures. Sometimes 

 the owl, on his soft silken wings, glides along with stealthy 

 and noiseless flight, and we are soon startled by his peculiar 

 hooting, a sound which I can imagine must be terrific 

 to the smaller inhabitants of the wood. 



At midnight, in general, the stillness of the winds is 

 greater than by day, and the gurgling of streams is heard 

 more distinctly amid the general hush of nature. Sounds 

 are now the most prominent objects of attention ; and 

 every noise from distant places booms distinctly over the 

 plains and hollows. We are affected with something like 

 a superstitious feeling at night, that disposes us to listen 

 with solemn attention to every sound that we cannot 

 immediately apprehend. While absorbed in our revery, 

 the night-jar, as he flies invisibly over our head, occa- 

 sionally twangs his wings on a sudden descent through 

 the air, in pursuit of his aerial prey, making a sound that 

 to the superstitious, who are unacquainted with the bird, 

 is fearful and perplexing. The first time I heard this 

 sound, which resembles the snapping of a viol-string, was 



