252 A Hundred Republics. 



solemn companions move slowl}' onwards, rarely 

 deigning to ' caw ' him a reply. But awaj' 3'onder at 

 the wood, above the great beech trees, where so vast 

 a congregation is gathered together, there is a 

 mighty uproar and (!ommotion : a seething and bub- 

 bling of the crowds, now settling on the branches, 

 now rising in sable clouds, each calling to the other 

 with all his might, the whole population delivering 

 its opinions at once. 



It is an assemblage of a hundred republics. We 

 know how free States indulge in speech with their 

 parliaments and congresses and senates, their public 

 meetings, and so forth : here are a hundred such na- 

 tions, all with perfect liberty of tongue holding forth 

 unsparingl3', and in a language which consists of two 

 or three syllables indefinitely repeated. The din is 

 wonderful — each repubhc as its forces arrive adding 

 to the noise, and for a long time unable to settle 

 upon their trees, but feeling compelled to wheel 

 around and discourse. In spring each tribe has its 

 special district, its own canton and city, in its own 

 trees away in the meadows. Later on they all meet 

 here in the evening. It is a full hour or more before 

 the orations have all been delivered, and even then 

 small bands rush up into the air still dissatisfied. 



This great stream of rooks passing over the hills 

 meets another great stream as it approaches the 

 wood, crossing up from the meadows. From the 

 rampart there may be seen, perhaps a mile and a 

 half away, a dim black line crossing at right angles 

 — converging on the wood, which itself stands on 

 the edge of the table-land from which the steeper 

 downs arise. This second army is every whit as 



