ight invisible, the gabble of a cloud of wild
geese is sublime. Whence comes it--whither goes it--for what end, and by
what power impelled? Reason sees not into the darkness of instinct--and
therefore the awestruck heart of the night-wandering boy beats to hear
the league-long gabble that probably has winged its wedge-like way from
the lakes, and marshes, and dreary morasses of Siberia, from Lapland, or
Iceland, or the unfrequented and unknown northern regions of
America--regions set apart, quoth Bewick we believe, for summer
residences and breeding-places, and where they are amply provided with a
variety of food, a large portion of which must consist of the larvae of
gnats, and myriads of insects, there fostered by the unsetting sun! Now
they are gabbling good Gaelic over a Highland night-moor. Perhaps in
another hour the descending cloud will be covering the wide waters at
the head of the wild Loch Maree--or, silent and asleep, the whole host
be riding at anchor around Lomond's Isles!

But 'tis now mid-day--and lo! in that mediterranean--a flock of wild
Swans! Have they dropt down from the ether into the water almost as pure
as ether, without having once folded their wings, since they rose aloft
to shun the insupportable northern snows hundreds of leagues beyond the
storm-swept Orcades? To look at the quiet creatures, you might think
that they had never left the circle of that little loch. There they hang
on their shadows, even as if asleep in the sunshine; and now stretching
out their long wings--how apt for flight from clime to clime!--joyously
they beat the liquid radiance, till to the loud flapping high rises the
mist, and wide spreads the foam, almost sufficient for a rainbow. Safe
are they from all birds of prey. The Osprey dashes down on the teal, or
sea-trout, swimming within or below their shadow. The great Erne, or
Sea-eagle, pounces on the mallard, as he mounts from the bulrushes
before the wild swans sailing, with all wings hoisted, like a fleet--but
osprey nor eagle dares to try his talons on that stately bird--for he is
bold in his beauty, and formidable as he is fair; the pinions that swim
and soar can also smite; and though the one be a lover of war, the other
of peace, yet of them it may be said,

"The eagle he is lord above,
The swan is lord below!"

To have shot such a creature--so large--so white--so high-soaring--and
on the winds of midnight wafted from so far--a creature that seemed not