Twilight is still lingering in the west, bringing on the night with a soft and sweet touch of delicacy, but still approaching, till surrounding objects become more and more obscure and confused, though undiminished in their beauty and effect. The cries of the macue, the capaiera, the goat-sucker, and the bass tones of the bullfrog, are now heard. Myriads of luminous beetles fly in the air, resembling the ignes fatui, and announce the departure of the day; when the night-moths and numerous other insects start on the wing, the bats flit between the branches of trees, the owls and vampires, like phantoms, silently pursue their course in search of prey, reserving their hollow cries for the ominous hour of midnight.
The stars, one after another, are lighted up as the moon rises on the horizon, with a modest countenance, to intimate to man that there is still a ruling power over the world. She tinges with silver streaks of light the tops and edges of the forest, till
"Lo! midnight, from her starry reign,
Looks awful down on earth and main,
The tuneful birds lie hush'd in sleep,
With all that crop the verdant food,
With all that skim the crystal flood,
Or haunt the caverns of the rocky steep."
At this hour the spectral owl quits the hollow tree, and with his shriek makes the boldest birds shrink away in fear, though in the sunshine hour they would hunt him.
"So when the night falls, and dogs do howl,
Sing Ho! for the reign of the horned owl!
We know not alway
Who are kings by day;
But the king of the night is the bold brown owl!"
"Mourn not for the owl, nor his gloomy plight!
The owl hath his share of good;
If a prisoner he be in the broad daylight,
He is lord in the dark greenwood.
Nor lonely the bird, nor his ghastly mate,
They are each unto each a pride;
Thrice fonder, perhaps, since a strange dark fate,
Hath rent them from all beside."
The bow and arrows
I made but little progress in archery, which was a great source of mortification to me, although I spent every leisure hour I could spare after obtaining food, in practice. I was on the verge of despair of ever being able to make anything like a shot, when an incident occurred that enabled me to kill, in a few weeks, almost any bird on the wing, if within the range of my bow. Returning home from a long and fatiguing ramble (for I had extended my surveys of the forest as I acquired confidence of finding my way home at night), I one day was astonished to see a bow and a quiver of arrows suspended from the branch of a tree.
This was a sight which occasioned feelings that are indescribable. I was both rejoiced and alarmed. At first I thought my deliverance was certain; the next moment I crouched behind a bush to hide myself, as from a most deadly foe. When I reflected on the loneliness of my existence, I longed to join society; yet, whenever society appeared to be available, I instinctively shrunk back, as if about to lose my independence or be carried into slavery. Operated on by mingled impulses, the dread of man seemed for a long time to prevail. Might they not be savages, and take my life? Or might they not lead me into captivity, and make a slave of me? They would at least have the Christian's practice to urge as a plea, in extenuation of such a measure.
Confident that human beings were in the neighbourhood, I at length resolved to secrete myself in a bush and wait their return. I fixed my eyes on the bow and quiver, expecting their owner would return for them; but the tones of the toucan were heard, by which I was as well informed of the approach of evening, as the partridge's call announces the coming day. Still unwilling to quit the spot, I remained throughout the night; but no owner came to claim the weapons. All this time I feared to touch them as if they were a trap laid to ensnare me. About noon the next day, I thought of possessing myself of them, and then made a circuit to reassure myself that no one was at hand. With fear and trembling I then, like a thief, took the bow and quiver from the tree, and hastened back to my hut to examine them. The whole secret of my inability to shoot birds was now at once explained. I had not feathered my arrows, nor was my bow long enough.