The Summer of Saint Martin. 127 



the watch, become aware of the passing of the vast 

 array. 



On such a night the air is crowded with myriads of 

 flying forms, wheeling round the lantern, coming up 

 like phantoms out of the darkness, seen for a moment 

 in the glare, and then disappearing in the gloom. The 

 air is filled with screams, and cries, and strange un- 

 earthly voices, and the rustling of innumerable wings. 

 Thousands of birds are taken while dazzled with the 

 light ; thousands dash their lives out against the fatal 

 splendour. Sometimes, even, hurled through the 

 glass by the tremendous impulse of their flight, they 

 fall lifeless on the light-room floor among the fragments 

 of the shattered lantern. 



During the migratory period, which lasts only for a 

 few weeks, birds are continually making the journey, 

 but there are two great flights each season, separated by 

 an interval of a fortnight or more. The migrants seem 

 to care little for rain or darkness, or even for unfavour- 

 able winds ; but it has been observed that the passage 

 of the great flocks is frequently the signal of approach- 

 ing storms, and that they often take advantage of a 

 lull to leave their summer quarters. The worst of 

 weather will not delay them long, and this long spell 

 of calm will no doubt have brought troops of birds 

 from the chilled regions of the north. 



Already the bright eyes of the woodcock have been 

 seen in the covers. Already the bay is dotted with 

 the dark figures of scaup-ducks. The widgeons have 



