THE BEAUTY OF THE NIGHT 371 



times wander out into the grounds to see what is 

 going on in the darkness. On one occasion I went 

 into the hammock at about two in the morning 

 and while standing in a small open space listening 

 to the frog chorus I heard a noise in the dense 

 forest as though some large animal were rushing 

 through it. It seemed to be moving rapidly in 

 my direction and from being startled at first I 

 became frightened. I feel sure that what hair I 

 have stood on end and I was strongly tempted to 

 run even in the inky darkness. But before I could 

 make up my mind to do so two men with guns 

 stepped into the open space where I stood. In 

 such a voice as one has in a nightmare I managed 

 to call out "Who are you?" and when they heard 

 me they were as frightened as I. Then they told 

 me they had been in the swamp to the northward 

 hunting a wildcat and were on their way home. 

 When I had somewhat recovered from my fright I 

 recognized them as two of my neighbors and we 

 had a good laugh over the adventure. 



I love the night with its silence, its strange 

 sounds, its beauty and mystery. It has an in- 

 finite attraction for the devotee of nature: all that 

 he sees, hears, and feels are so different from the 



