ROOSTING PLACE OF STARLINGS 205 



silent as the grave ; but first one and then another 

 company come dropping in from all points of the 

 compass, increasing in size and frequency as the 

 minutes pass on, some of them of " numbers 

 numberless" and very high in air, as though 

 coming from a great distance, and gathering 

 others to them, like a rolling snowball, as they 

 make their way onward. They first pitch in the 

 grass-fields around, "making the green one" black. 

 When they rise in a body, it is "as with the sound 

 of thunder heard remote." As they pass over your 

 head, they literally darken the air; and they go 

 through a series of the most intricate evolutions, now 

 in extended line, now in close phalanx, now wheeling 

 round in vast circles, and without so much as one 

 sound from their throats. But, at a signal, given 

 we know not how, they swoop down, in a moment, 

 into their roosting-bushes ; and then, for a quarter of 

 an hour or more, each of the myriad throats exerts 

 itself to its utmost in one continuous " charm " or 

 twitter, their vesper hymn, which can be heard at 

 the distance of half a mile, and which I can only 

 compare to the sound of multitudinous waterfalls. 

 At another signal, there is a sudden and absolute 

 hush ; and then perfect silence ensues till an hour 

 before sunrise next morning, when matins are sung, 



