Such was the end of his night’s moth-hunting. But his head was so full of badgers, and he was so confused with his fall, that when he reached home and went to sleep, he got up shortly afterwards, loaded his gun for the purpose of shooting a badger, and, as he was in the act of putting a cap on the nipple, he suddenly awoke!
ALTHOUGH it is comparatively easy to observe the habits of animals by day, it is much more difficult to do so at night. Edward, as we have already said, was compelled by circumstances to work at shoemaking by day, and to work at Natural History by night.
“It would have been much easier work for me,” said Edward, in answer to an inquiry made as to his nocturnal observations, “had it been my good fortune to possess but a single trustworthy book on the subject, or even a single friend who could have told me anything about such matters. But I had neither book nor friend. I was in a far worse predicament than the young and intending communicants at the parish church of Boyndie were, who, when asked a question by the good and pious minister, and returning no answer, were told that they were shockingly in the dark—all in the dark together. Now, they had a light beside them, for they had their teacher in their midst. But I had no light whatever, and no instructor. It was doubly dark with me. It was decidedly the very blackness of darkness in my case. The only spark or glimmer I had was from within. It proceeded from the never-ceasing craving I had for more knowledge of the works of Nature. This was the only faintest twinkle I had to lighten up my path, even in the darkest night. And that little twinkle, together with my own never-flagging perseverance, like a good and earnest pilot, steered me steadily and unflinchingly onward.”
Although Edward was frequently out in winter-time, especially in moonlight, his principal night-work occurred between spring and autumn. The stillest and quietest, and usually the darkest part of the night—unless when the moon was up—was from about an hour after sunset until about an hour before sunrise. Yet, during that sombre time, when not asleep, he seldom failed to hear the sounds or voices, near or at a distance, of midnight wanderers prowling about. In the course of a few years he learnt to know all the beasts and birds of the district frequented by him. He knew the former by their noises and gruntings, and the latter by the sound of their wings when flying. When a feathered wanderer flew by, he could tell its call-note at once, and often the family as well as the species to which it belonged. But although he contrived to make himself acquainted with the objects of many of these midnight cries and noises, others cost him a great deal of time and labour, as well as some dexterous manœuvring.
