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From these reflections I was roused by the plaintive three-syllable call of an evening bird a nightjar common in these woods; and was surprised to find that the sun had set, and the woods already shadowed with the twilight.
The note of the nightjar, on the other hand, is equally uttered by both sexes, and both also have the curious habit of repeatedly clapping the wings for several minutes together.
It seemed terribly lonesome and wild. When the Kangaroo spoke she remembered every thing, and they both sat up and talked a little. "Mo-poke! mo-poke!" sang the Nightjar in the distance. "I wish the Nightjar wouldn't make that noise when one wants to sleep," said the Kangaroo. "It hasn't got any voice to speak of, and the tune is stupid.
As has been said, both these birds are summer migrants, the nightingale arriving on our shores about the middle of April, the nightjar perhaps a fortnight later.
"What a pity!" said the Kangaroo, as she returned to the cave, "the Possum made that unlucky joke of telling the Nightjar it has a touching voice, and can sing: everyone has to suffer for that joke of the Possum's. It doesn't matter to him, for he is awake all night, but it is too bad for his neighbours who want to sleep."
As the Kangaroo spoke she hopped to the front of the cave. "I say, Nightjar," she said, "I'm a little sad to-night, please go and sing elsewhere." "Ah!" said the Nightjar, "I'm so glad I've given you deliciously dismal thoughts with my song! I'm a great artist, and can touch all hearts.
A strong scouting party of Cimarrones had been thrown forward in advance to guard against surprise, and as George completed his inspection of weapons and equipment the cry of a nightjar coming from the extreme distance and repeated ever nearer by the line of scouts told that the way was clear and that the column might begin its advance.
"I declare I will," said Sylvia, giving me an impulsive kiss, and springing on to the stone; "why, here is a ready-made stage." "And there," I said, "are the nightingale and the nightjar for orchestra." "And there is the moon," said she, "for lime-light man." "Yes," I said; "and here is a handful of glow-worms for the footlights."
Not far off was a camp of quarrelsome Flying Foxes, and the melancholy Nightjar in the distance was fulfilling its mission of making all the bush creatures miserable with its incessant, mournful "mo-poke! mo-poke!" As Dot could understand all the voices, it amused her to listen to the wrangles of the Flying Foxes, as they ate the fruit of a wild fig tree near by.
She went out on to the doorstep and listened, but there was no sound. The wind was high; the perfume of the stocks and wallflowers was strong; far away the sound of the river rushing through the sedges was audible in the intense stillness, an owl hooted, a nightjar sent forth its sweet, strange, sighing note. Of Nernia there was no trace.
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