260 AMERICAN GAME BIRD SHOOTING 



less unmoved, yet whispering to the water about their 

 roots with a strange trickling. But the light came on ; 

 the distant hills took shape and settled in firm gray out- 

 line against the sky, and a breath of fresher, purer air, 

 messenger of morning, passed over the lake, dispelling 

 the vapors that hung reluctant, and causing the reeds to 

 sway in graceful salute to the coming sun. A sparrow 

 chirped from her perch with joy ; a field lark rose from 

 her bed in the grass, tuning her limpid pipe to a song 

 of gladness; and the wild fowl plashed about right 

 heartily, when the highest hilltop was touched with 

 gold, and another and another, till the scene was il- 

 lumined to the very bosom of the lake. The feathered 

 orchestra sounds never so impressive as when it ushers 

 in the day ; never so fine and complete as when familiar 

 voices sing the higher notes to the strange deep bass of 

 the grouse; heard for the first time, as it was on this 

 occasion, the effect is indescribable. No one could say 

 whence the sound proceeded, nor how many birds, if 

 more than one, produced it; the hollow reverberations 

 filled the air, more like the lessening echoes of some 

 great instrument far away, than the voice of a bird at 

 hand. I listened to this grand concert, absorbed in 

 the reflections it stirred within me, no longer alone, 

 but in company I love, till the booming fell less fre- 

 quently upon my ear, and then ceased it was broad 

 day; the various birds were about their homely avoca- 

 tions, and I must betake myself to practical concerns. 



"Thus, in no faltering accents of timid expectancy, 

 but in the bold tone of assured success, the grouse 



