72 DAYS OUT OF DOORS. 



That fire is fascinating, no one will question ; but few 

 people, howeyer, seem aware of the peculiarly attractive 

 feature of a fierce blaze at night, when coupled with the 

 feeling that, furious as it may seem, it is nevertheless 

 under control. Of course, the moment that control is 

 lost, all pleasure vanishes and anxiety, if not terror, over- 

 comes all other emotion. Happily, this seldom happens, 

 when it is but the burning of brush. 



I was present recently when a pitchy black night was 

 chosen for the fun. The impenetrable darkness beyond a 

 little space, the fantastic shapes and shadows where the 

 red light fell, the sharp crackling and the angry hiss, 

 held me spell-bound. While I felt no temptation to 

 plunge into the fire, I can imagine, I think, why it is that 

 so many animals, and particularly birds, are overcome by 

 the leaping flames. I continually found myself drawn 

 nearer and nearer to the fire and anxious to explore 

 with my cane every nook and cranny of the glowing mass. 

 Not a blackened twig that bid fair to escape but I de- 

 lighted to throw into the fiercest flames ; my own appetite 

 for witnessing destruction becoming as insatiable as that 

 of the fire itself for fuel. The warmth, too, of the sur- 

 rounding air was exhilarating, rousing every energy to 

 quicker action, instead of drugging them with the nox- 

 ious gases of an indoor stove. 



Something of this is applicable to birds, or so it has 

 appeared when I have seen them drop helpless into the 

 fire. Once, when a saw-mill burned, it seemed as if the 

 birds of the county collected as a cloud and rained upon 

 the flames. Not one appeared to fly deliberately into 

 them; and so far as I was able, under very favorable 

 circumstances, to determine, no large. birds, as hawks or 

 owls, were among the victims. 



When a field is suddenly lighted up at night, the 

 small birds in the vicinity are not simply excited by the 



