FL Y-FISHING B Y NIGHTLIGHT. 193 



They still indeed make good their claims to mytho- 

 logical origin, and make us almost fancy that Pan 

 and Syrinx are whispering their loves amongst the 

 leaves. But the pleasant music of the Pandean 

 orchestra is soon interrupted by an outburst of angry 

 voices from the aquatic birds, which love, feed, and 

 flap about in these reedy coverts by night. The poor 

 things are obviously angry at our untimely intrusion. 

 If their strength and unanimity were indeed equal to 

 their indignation and numbers, they might jeopardise 

 our further progress to the fishing-ground. The simple 

 peasant, impressed by the stillness and darkness of 

 night, might be almost excused for confounding the 

 wild variety of their cries, colours, and movements 

 with those of the enchanted beings which he believes 

 to inhabit the depths of the lake. Pat is not at all 

 convinced* that these nocturnal sounds are emitted 

 by the gentle social tribes of waterfowl that hover 

 over, or make their toilet on, the glassy surface of the 

 lake during the day. For the peculiar habits of one 

 section of the family it is not so easy to account. The 

 group consists of a number of small gulls, which 

 hover overhead in the wake of the boat, and pursue 

 it for miles in whatever direction it takes. Whether 

 actuated by love, fear, or hope of prey, the voices of 

 the aerial choir produce one of the wildest and most 

 mournful of " Notturnos." It might well serve as a 

 dirge for one of Ossian's heroes. Pat solves the prob- 







