d under a roof; but in the open world it
passes lightly, with its stars and dews and perfumes, and the hours are
marked by changes in the face of Nature. What seems a kind of temporal
death to people choked between walls and curtains, is only a light and
living slumber to the man who sleeps afield. All night long he can hear
Nature breathing deeply and freely; even as she takes her rest, she turns
and smiles; and there is one stirring hour unknown to those who dwell in
houses, when a wakeful influence goes abroad over the sleeping
hemisphere, and all the outdoor world are on their feet. It is then that
the cock first crows, not this time to announce the dawn, but like a
cheerful watchman speeding the course of night. Cattle awake on the
meadows; sheep break their fast on dewy hillsides, and change to a new
lair among the ferns; and houseless men, who have lain down with the
fowls, open their dim eyes and behold the beauty of the night.

At what inaudible summons, at what gentle touch of Nature, are all these
sleepers thus recalled in the same hour to life? Do the stars rain down
an influence, or do we share some thrill of mother earth below our
resting bodies? Even shepherds and old country-folk, who are the deepest
read in these arcana, have not a guess as to the means or purpose of this
nightly resurrection. Towards two in the morning they declare the thing
takes place; and neither know nor inquire further. And at least it is a
pleasant incident. We are disturbed in our slumber only, like the
luxurious Montaigne, 'that we may the better and more sensibly relish
it.' We have a moment to look upon the stars. And there is a special
pleasure for some minds in the reflection that we share the impulse with
all outdoor creatures in our neighbourhood, that we have escaped out of
the Bastille of civilisation, and are become, for the time being, a mere
kindly animal and a sheep of Nature's flock.

When that hour came to me among the pines, I wakened thirsty. My tin was
standing by me half full of water. I emptied it at a draught; and
feeling broad awake after this internal cold aspersion, sat upright to
make a cigarette. The stars were clear, coloured, and jewel-like, but
not frosty. A faint silvery vapour stood for the Milky Way. All around
me the black fir-points stood upright and stock-still. By the whiteness
of the pack-saddle, I could see Modestine walking round and round at the
length of her tether; I cou