THE WOODCOCK. 41 



I have often pictured them upon stormy nights feed- 

 ing beneath the cover of overhanging tree-lined banks, or 

 in open marsh and fen, and wondered if their actions 

 were as solemn then as in the daylight. It must be sad 

 work in such weather, indeed almost funereal, and the 

 joy, like that of many a human life, be the anticipation 

 of the coming rest. 



In festal moods, no doubt they pass many a night in 

 revelry, by the margin of some favorite pool, whose 

 mirrored surface reflects the star-lit zenith, with the moon 

 high above for a chandelier, and the wind-anthems 

 through the tree-tops for music. Perhaps, too, they 

 have some knowledge of astronomj', understand the 

 twinkling of the stars, study the signs of the zodiac, 

 thereby learning when to time their flights, and plac- 

 ing great reliance upon the moon's phases, and the 

 tale which she tells them, as they watch her course; for 

 they take their migratory flights by the pale light of the 

 moon, rather than by the bright rays of the mid-day sun. 



What other of our upland game birds enjoys such 

 nightly revels? The upland plover flies by night, and its 

 plaintive call, half sad, half glad, may be heard wavering 

 upon the evening air; but it feeds by day, and does not, 

 like the woodcock, indulge in nocturnal feasts. 



Woodcock are a riddle to the sportsman, who knows 

 them best, while to those without the pale of field-sports 

 they are known only as their name is read upon some 

 tempting menu, or as they are brought to the table, 

 served with highest culinary skill. 



To him who, in the early summer, with rod in hand, 

 follows some trout-brook as it dashes down from among 

 the hills and out through the interval, they often, for an 

 instant, show their mottled plumage ere they whistle 

 from sight in the thick, green foliage, and leave him gaz- 

 ing with eager eyes at "what might have been." 



