Watching the Brant Grow Big. 57 



throng play easy with the elements ? One 

 sings, and then another. Hear then all 

 throats together. Here a cluck and there 

 a tremolo, then back and forth the slogan 

 goes till the disappearing huddle leaves in 

 its wake vibrations that have softened the 

 winds and set the waves to tune. To-night 

 when all is still in the cabin you may hear 

 those voices of the morning when no birds 

 are near. When you are at home in the 

 city, a strange, weird music will come as 

 you sit before the grate fire in the twilight. 

 The chimney winds have caught the ca- 

 dence of the voices of the brant, and look- 

 ing into the gloom of the room you will 

 see again the moving wings that float 

 adown the ceiling. 'T is the shadow of 

 vibrations that have come from the far-off 

 bay. No others can hear the sound or see 

 the motion. 'T is for you alone, this de- 

 light of wandering impression that comes 

 through miles of shadow, to you sympa- 

 thetic. 



Upon a narrow sand-bar lapped oy the 

 receding waves, Captain Jack and I step 

 out, to be saluted by the jets of forty 



