The Voices of the Wilderness 



of the beech woods. I am in the northern woods in 

 springtime ; cool and fragrant the northern air blows 

 round me. But ah ! thousands of miles of land and sea 

 divide me from all that, and cool reflective reason counts 

 only on the possibility, not the certainty, of my ever 

 seeing my native land again. 



And yet this beautiful picture has a strengthening 

 and consoling influence. It drives away the trouble of 

 home-sickness a dismal thing ! 



I can hear many other voices besides these in the 

 primeval forest. But those that impress themselves in 

 the most completely enduring way on the memory are 

 the strange cry of the; tree-hyrax, the peculiar note 

 of the hornbills, that calling of the? doves, the remarkable 

 chorus sono- of the 'MbeLra monkeys, strange bevond 



o o / o J 



all description, and the trumpeting of the lord of the 

 primeval forest, the elephant. 



Another tone-picture an early morning at a drinking- 

 place in the desert. One could feel the cold in the 

 night, but the quick coming warmth ot the equatorial 

 sun's rays has soon roused the animal world to active 

 life. There is the cry and call of the francolins on all 

 sides. But the chief part in this early concert is taken 

 by the thousands of turtle-doves, flying from all directions 

 to the water. Everywhere a murmuring and cooing, that 

 the Masai are able to re-echo so incomparably in the 

 name of the turtle-dove in their language " 'Nclurgulyu." 

 As an accompaniment to this, there is the rustling 

 and wing-clapping of all the feathered visitors at the 

 water. Towards evening the air in the neighbourhood 



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