414 
BIRD-LIFE. 
first uproar subsides into a sort of sociable hum; and the 
screeching drops, little by little, to a murmur. Now 
the nocturnal animals commence their concert: the wild 
boar, the jackal, and the night-birds, begin to raise their 
weird voices, and make merry among themselves after 
their own ghostly fashion. The Night Heron has had its 
sleep, and dreamt the day away; it now spreads its 
wings at the first approach of darkness, and departs on 
its midnight rounds. Creaking and croaking, the noc¬ 
turnal band quit the trees and hie them to the swamps 
in search of frog and lizard, thereby continuing a chase 
only just relinquished by the diurnal fraternity. In 
company with the former the Bittern, Thick-kneed 
Plover, and, if the moon be up, the Spoonbill, with 
numbers of Plovers, go out on the feed. Long before 
sunrise they again abandon the swamp; but by this time 
the day birds are wide awake, and make you aware of the 
fact. Thus voices are heard both night and day. 
The islands, also, covered as they mostly are with low 
scrub, have their residents as w T ell: these are different 
Warblers; and in the green meadows Pipits and Wag¬ 
tails wander hither and thither, sure of food and 
shelter. 
This congregation of different species lasts almost the 
whole winter through, until the sun, gaining strength, 
gives the signal for departure to some, and draws fresh 
visitors from the south. By the end of February the 
Cormorants already begin to collect together, and form 
themselves into immense flocks ready for the journey. 
Every evening they may be seen flying in long strings to 
their roosting-places: their numbers, however, diminish 
daily. The Pelican is now ready to start; and the 
Flamingoes disperse gradually day by day. Every 
