

WOODCOCK VESPEKS 



any one), with an ear always awake for a 

 certain note, the "bleat," so called, of the 

 woodcock. Should I hear it ? It was fast 

 getting dark, the western sky covered with 

 black clouds (a great disadvantage), with 

 only scattered gleams of bright color, very 

 narrow, just on the horizon. Hark ! Yes ; 

 that was it Spneak. There is no putting 

 the sound into letters, but those who know 

 the call of the nighthawk may understand 

 sufficiently well what I am trying to express, 

 for the two notes are almost identical. 



With this note, single, repeated for a con- 

 siderable time at intervals of perhaps half a 

 minute, the bird still on the ground, and 

 turning about, so that some of his utterances 

 sound three or four times as far away as oth- 

 ers, with this strange, unmusical, almost 

 ridiculous overture the woodcock invariably 

 introduces his evening recital. I wait, there- 

 fore, leaning against the heavy stone wall, 

 costly and unromantic, with which the rich 

 new owner of the land has lately fenced his 

 possession, till all at once the silence is bro- 

 ken by the familiar whistling noises made by 

 the heavy bird as he leaves the ground. This 



