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courageous thought。 It reminded me of ghouls and idiots and insane
howlings。 But now one answers from far woods in a strain made
really melodious by distance Hoo hoo hoo； hoorer hoo； and indeed
for the most part it suggested only pleasing associations； whether
heard by day or night； summer or winter。
I rejoice that there are owls。 Let them do the idiotic and
maniacal hooting for men。 It is a sound admirably suited to swamps
and twilight woods which no day illustrates； suggesting a vast and
undeveloped nature which men have not recognized。 They represent
the stark twilight and unsatisfied thoughts which all have。 All day
the sun has shone on the surface of some savage swamp； where the
single spruce stands hung with usnea lichens； and small hawks
circulate above； and the chickadee lisps amid the evergreens； and
the partridge and rabbit skulk beneath； but now a more dismal and
fitting day dawns； and a different race of creatures awakes to
express the meaning of Nature there。
Late in the evening I heard the distant rumbling of wagons over
bridges a sound heard farther than almost any other at night
the baying of dogs； and sometimes again the lowing of some
disconsolate cow in a distant barn…yard。 In the mean…while all the
shore rang with the trump of bullfrogs； the sturdy spirits of
ancient wine…bibbers and wassailers； still unrepentant； trying to
sing a catch in their Stygian lake if the Walden nymphs will
pardon the comparison； for though there are almost no weeds； there
are frogs there who would fain keep up the hilarious rules of
their old festal tables； though their voices have waxed hoarse and
solemnly grave； mocking at mirth； and the wine has lost its flavor；
and become only liquor to distend their paunches； and sweet
intoxication never comes to drown the memory of the past； but mere
saturation and waterloggedness and distention。 The most aldermanic；
with his chin upon a heart…leaf； which serves for a napkin to his
drooling chaps； under this northern shore quaffs a deep draught of
the once scorned water； and passes round the cup with the
ejaculation tr…r…r…oonk； tr…r…roonk； tr…r…r…oonk！ and straightway
comes over the water from some distant cove the same password
repeated； where the next in seniority and girth has gulped down to
his mark； and when this observance has made the circuit of the
shores； then ejaculates the master of ceremonies； with satisfaction；
tr…r…r…oonk！ and each in his turn repeats the same down to the least
distended； leakiest； and flabbiest paunched； that there be no
mistake； and then the howl goes round again and again； until the sun
disperses the morning mist； and only the patriarch is not under the
pond； but vainly bellowing troonk from time to time； and pausing for
a reply。
I am not sure that I ever heard the sound of cock…crowing from
my clearing； and I thought that it might be worth the while to keep
a cockerel for his music merely； as a singing bird。 The note of
this once wild Indian pheasant is certainly the most remarkable of
any bird's； and if they could be naturalized without being
domesticated； it would soon become the most famous sound in our
woods； surpassing the clangor of the goose and the hooting of the
owl； and then imagine the cackling of the hens to fill the pauses
when their lords' clarions rested！ No wonder that man added this
bird to his tame stock to say nothing of the eggs and drumsticks。
To walk in a winter morning in a wood where these birds abounded；
their native woods； and hear the wild cockerels crow on the trees；
clear and shrill for miles over the resounding earth； drowning the
feebler notes of other birds think of it！ It would put nations
on the alert。 Who would not be early to rise； and rise earlier and
earlier every successive day of his life； till he became unspeakably
healthy； wealthy； and wise？ This foreign bird's note is celebrated
by the poets of all countries along with the notes of their native
songsters。 All climates agree with brave Chanticleer。 He is more
indigenous even than the natives。 His health is ever good； his
lungs are sound； his spirits never flag。 Even the sailor on the
Atlantic and Pacific is awakened by his voice； but its shrill sound
never roused me from my slumbers。 I kept neither dog； cat； cow；
pig； nor hens； so that you would have said there was a deficiency of
domestic sounds； neither the churn； nor the spinning…wheel； nor even
the singing of the kettle； nor the hissing of the urn； nor children
crying； to comfort one。 An old…fashioned man would have lost his
senses or died of ennui before this。 Not even rats in the wall； for
they were starved out； or rather were never baited in only
squirrels on the roof and under the floor； a whip…poor…will on the
ridge…pole； a blue jay screaming beneath the window； a hare or
woodchuck under the house； a screech owl or a cat owl behind it； a
flock of wild geese or a laughing loon on the pond； and a fox to
bark in the night。 Not even a lark or an oriole； those mild
plantation birds； ever visited my clearing。 No cockerels to crow
nor hens to cackle in the yard。 No yard！ but unfenced nature
reaching up to your very sills。 A young forest growing up under
your meadows； and wild sumachs and blackberry vines breaking through
into your cellar； sturdy pitch pines rubbing and creaking against
the shingles for want of room； their roots reaching quite under the
house。 Instead of a scuttle or a blind blown off in the gale a
pine tree snapped off or torn up by the roots behind your house for
fuel。 Instead of no path to the front…yard gate in the Great Snow
no gate no front…yard and no path to the civilized world。