NIGHT IN THE FOREST. 279 



As the night wears on, the tall trees can hardly 

 be distinguished one behind another, as they 

 loom darker and darker against an indefinable 

 background. 



Hundreds of flying-foxes glide silently through 

 the night air, like evil spirits of darkness ; and 

 the harsh cry of alarm of the plover, " Did he do 

 it, did he do it?" is heard long after the rest of 

 the feathered race are at rest. 



Then the voices of night come upon 



our ears. Elephants are heard trum- 

 petting as they crash through the underwood, 

 and at intervals sundry smothered roars and 

 deep hoarse grumblings re-echo amongst the 

 hollow arches of the forest, and tell us that its 

 fiercest denizens have risen from their lairs in. 

 its innermost recesses, and are prowling about 

 in search of prey. 



It is not the mere killing which 

 Forest Lore. 



affords the hunter pleasure, as he 



ranges the forest in the pursuit of game, for the 

 ever -changing sylvan realm is beautiful under 



