that they are
approaching, and that it hears them coming; and odd or marvellous as it
may seem, this signal of the little fly, which never misleads you--this
signal which falls upon your ear just at the proper and precise moment,
is as certain as that two and two make four. Be not sceptical, and
imagine that this is chance; no such thing. Go when you will to the
_chasse a l'affut_, station yourself in whichever part of the forest you
like, be assured the fly will be there; it was never otherwise. The
question is, who sends the fly? how does it know the sportsman? and by
what mysterious chronometer does it regulate with such exactness its
movements? _Chi lo sa?_ He who doth not let a sparrow fall to the ground
without He willeth it. Equally incomprehensible is the departure of this
little insect, which, the concert over, and when you are thoroughly on
the _qui vive_, ceases its buzz, and is heard no more. At this very
moment, the silence in which you have till then remained is suddenly
broken by shouts of "They come! they come!" quickly followed by bang,
bang, bang along the glade; and here indeed they are, at first by twos
and threes, and then a compact flight, whirling along with appealing
cries of love, fluttering, and flapping their wings, and pursuing one
another from bush to bush. They show now neither fear nor
circumspection, and crazy, blind, and deaf, scarcely seem to notice the
noise, the flashes, or the cries of the sportsmen. At length all is in
complete confusion. They toss and twirl about like great leaves in a
hurricane, and finally fly, with their ranks somewhat diminished, to
their several homes. This sport lasts but a short half-hour; after
which, the woodcocks having said all they had to say, made and accepted
their engagements for the following day, vanish as if by magic, like the
puff of a cigar, a shadow, or a royal promise, and the same silence that
preceded their arrival reigns once more in the forest. No gun is loaded
after their departure; the sportsmen assemble, count the dead, never so
numerous, as one might suppose, and having bagged them, also retire from
the scene. I have known one person kill four couple of woodcocks in this
manner, but it was quite an exceptional case; two or three is nearer the
usual number. Chance, as in war, in marriage, in everything, is
frequently the secret of success; but if you are not cool and collected,
and handy with your gun, you will scarce carry a _salmi_ hom