THE ROMANCE OF NATURAL HISTORY. 



sombre and gloomy recesses of the black- timbered 

 woods. I occasionally watched for it, resorting to 

 the woods before sunset, and waiting till dark- 

 ness; but, strange to say, it refused to perform 

 under such conditions. The shy and recluse bird, 

 if bird it is, was doubtless aware of the intrusion, 

 and on its guard. Once I heard it under peculiarly 

 wild circumstances. I was riding late at night, 

 and just at midnight came to a very lonely part 

 of the road, where the black forest rose on each 

 side. Everything was profoundly still, and the 

 measured tramp of my horse's feet on the frozen 

 road was felt as a relief to the deep and oppres- 

 sive silence; when, suddenly, from the sombre 

 woods, rose the clear metallic tinkle of the whet- 

 saw. The sound, all unexpected as it was, was 

 very striking, and, though it was bitterly cold, I 

 drew up for some time to listen to it. In the 

 darkness and silence of the hour, that regularly 

 measured sound, proceeding too from so gloomy 

 a spot, had an effect on my mind, solemn and un- 

 earthly, yet not unmingled with pleasure. 



It is doubtless the mystery in such cases that 

 mainly constitutes the charm. In Jamaica I used 

 to hear frequently a querulous cry, "kep, kep, 

 kep,"— uttered in the air after night-fall by some 

 creature which flew round in a great circle, but 

 was invisible. Now and then the utterance was 

 varied by a most demoniac shriek or two, and 

 then the call went on as before. I was exceed- 

 ingly interested in this, till I ascertained that it 

 was the white owl, and obtained a specimen, after 

 which the romantic feeling with which I had 

 listened to it was no longer awakened by the sound. 



In some parts of this country the peasantry 

 hear with superstitious awe the hollow booming 

 note of the bittern, proceeding from the lonely 

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