SECOND JOURNEY. 



119 



When the moon shines bright, yon may have a fair 



opportunity of examining the goatsucker. You will see 



it close by the cows, goats, and sheep, jumping up every 



now and then, under their bellies. Approach a little 



nearer, — he is not shy, ^^he fears no danger, for he knows 



no sin." See how the nocturnal flies are tormenting the 



herd, and with what dexterity he springs up and catches 



them, as fast as they alight on the belly, legs, and udder 



of the animals. Observe how quiet they stand, and how 



sensible they seem of his good ofi&ces, for they neither 



strike at him, nor hit him with their tail, nor tread on 



him, nor try to drive him away as an uncivil intruder. 



Were you to dissect him, and inspect his stomach, you 



would find no milk there. It is full of the fiies which 



have been annoying the herd. 



The prettily mottled plumage of the goat- 

 its plumage. 



sucker, liko that of the owl, wants the lustre 

 which is observed in the feathers of the birds of day. 

 This, at once, marks him as a lover of the pale moon's 

 nightly beams. There are nine species here. The largest 

 appears nearly the size of the English wood owl. Its cry 

 is so remarkable, that having once heard it you will never 

 forget it. When night reigns over these immeasurable 

 wilds, w^hilst lying in your hammock, you will hear this 

 goatsucker lamenting like one iii deep distress. A 

 stranger would never conceive it to be the cry of a bird. 

 He would say it was the departing voice of a midnight 

 murdered victim, or the last wailing of Mobe for her 

 poor children, before she was turned into stone. Sup- 

 pose yourself in hopeless sorrow, begin with a high loud 

 note, and pronounce, "ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha," each 

 note lower and lower, till the last is scarcely heard, 

 pausing a moment or two betwixt every note, and you 



