culiar sound of
his rattle.
It may not have been observed by all that the most interesting periods
or situations for rambling are not those which most abound with exciting
scenes and objects. There must be a certain dearth of individual objects
that draw the attention, intermingled with occasional remarkable or
mysterious sights and sounds, to yield an excursion its greatest
interest. The hunter (unless he be a purveyor for the market)
understands this philosophy, and knows that there is more pleasure
in chasing a single deer or a solitary fox over miles of pasture
and moorland, than in hunting where these animals are abundant, and
slaughtering them as fast as one can load his gun. The pleasures
attending a rural excursion in the winter are founded on this fact, and
may be explained by this principle. There, amid the general silence,
every sound attracts attention and is accompanied by its echo; and since
the trees and shrubs have lost their leafy garniture, every tree and
other object has its own distinct shadow, and we fix our attention
more easily upon anything that excites our interest than when it is
distracted by the confusion of numbers.
Hence it is in the winter that the picturesque character of the flight
of birds is particularly noticeable. In summer, and in autumn, before
the fall of the leaf, birds are partially concealed by the foliage of
trees, so that the manner of their flight does not become so readily
apparent. But in winter, if we start a flock of birds from the ground,
we can hardly avoid taking notice of all the peculiarities of their
movements. I have alluded to the descent of Snow-Buntings upon the
landscape as singularly picturesque; but the motions of a flock of
Quails, when suddenly aroused from a thicket, are not less so. When a
Pigeon, or any other bird with strong and large wings, takes flight, the
motions of its wings are not vibratory, and its progress through the air
is so rapid as to injure the pleasing effect of its motions, because we
obtain no distinct perception of the bird during its flight. It is quite
otherwise with the Quail. The body of this bird is plump and heavy, and
his wings are short, and have a peculiar concavity of the under surface
when expanded; their motions are very rapid, and, having but little
sweep, the bird seems to sail on the air, carried along by a gentle but
rapid vibration of the wings, which describe only a very small arc of a
circle. Hence we observe t
|