THE GUN 123 



of the quiet autumn rather than winter evenings. 

 How often have I stood and listened to it as I walked 

 home after a day's shooting ! It is distinctive of 

 autumn, though not peculiar to the season. The 

 evenings that lend themselves to it are those with 

 stir enough in the air to shake the little shower of 

 leaves from the maple. An evening must be still 

 indeed for this at the close of October, for even on 

 a serene autumn day, when we are not conscious 

 of breeze, the maple suddenly seems to have had 

 a shake that brings straight and flat to the ground 

 a shower of yellow and red. This quick little pitter- 

 patter of maple leaves stops as suddenly as it began. 

 The maple is motionless again. Not a leaf after 

 this does it shed for an hour or more. There appears 

 to have been no more impetus to set loose all these 

 leaves suddenly than such a zephyr as makes the 

 aspen shiver. 



But on the evening when the pheasant and black- 

 bird duet is heard at its best the air is not even 

 rude enough for this it does not loosen one maple 

 leaf. The stillness begins to be appreciated about 

 an hour before dark, and a thing characteristic of 

 wood silence perceptibly it deepens, deepens. On 

 the verge of dusk every item of sound falls distinctly 

 on the ear. The silence then may be likened to 

 the flat ground-colour of a picture or painted object, 

 which shows up effectively every mark, however 

 insignificant, that is made upon it. Thus from the 



