Juniata sentinel and Republican. [volume] (Mifflintown, Juniata County, Pa.) 1873-1955, 1879-08-13
Calling a Moose

Ii was a most lovely evening. Il wanted
but about half an hour to sundOwn, and all
was perfectly still. There was not the
slightest sound of anything moving in the
forest except that of the unfrequent flight
of a moose bird close by. And so l sat
watching that most glorious transformation
scene-the change of day into night: saw
the great sun sink slowly down behind the
pine trees; saw the few clouds that hOvered
motionless above me blaze into the color of
bright FURNISHED gold; saw the whole at
mosphere become glorious with soft yell
low light gradually dying out as the night
crepp on, till only in the western sky there
fingered faint glow fading into pale,
cold apple-green, against which the pines
stood out as black as midnight and as
sharply defined as though cut out of steel
As the darkness deepened young crescent
moon shone out pale and clear, with gilt
tering star little below the lower horn,
and above her another star of lesser magni-
tude. 1t looked as though a supernatural
iewel-a heavenly pendant, two great dia-
mond solitaires and a diamond crescent
were hanging in the western sky. After
while the moon, too, sank behind the trees.
and darkness fell upon the earth. | know
of nothing more enchanting than perfect
ly calm and silent autumnal sunset in the
woods unless il be the sunrise, which to my
mind is more lovely still. Sunset is beautl-
full, but sad: sunrise is equally beautiful,
and full of life, happiness and hope. L
love TO watch the stars begin to fade, TO see
the first faint white light clear up the dark
ness of the eastern sky, and gradually
deepen inte the glorious coloring that her
/ aids the approaching sun. l love to see
nature awake shuddering, as she always
does. and arouse herself into active, busy
life. to note the insects, birds and beasts
shake off slumber and set about their daily
tasks. Still the sunset is inexpressibly
lovely, and do not envy the condition and
frame of mind of man who cannot be as
nearly happy as man can he, when he is
living comfortably on luxurious and soft
couch, gazing in perfect peace on the glor-
ious scene around him, rejoicing all his
senses. and saturating himself with the
wonderful beauties of a Northern sunset.
So sat quietly below, while the Indian
call, d from the tree-top. Not sound an
swered to the three or four long-drawn-out
notes with which he hoped to lure the bull :
after long interval he called again, but the
same perfect. utter silence reigned in the
woods. a silence broken only by the melan-
choly hooting of an owl, or the imaginary
noises that filled my head. 1t is extraor-
diuarv how small noises become magnifled
when the ear is kept at a great tension for
anv length Of time, and how the head be-
comes filled with all kinds of fictitious
sounds: and il is very remarkable also how
utterly impossible it is to distinguish be-
tween a loud noise uttered at distance and
a scarcely audible sound close by After
listening very intently amidst the profound
silence of quiet night in the forest for an
hour or so the head becomes so stlrcharged
with blood, owing, | presume, to all the
faculties being concentrated on single
sense, that one seems to hear distant voices
the ringing of bells and all kinds of strange
and impossible noises. A man becomes SC
, nervously alive to the slightest disturbance
of the almost awful silence of a still nigh
in the woods that the faintest sound-th'
cracking of a minute twig or the fall of
! leaf. even at a great distance-will mak'
him almost jump out of his skin He L
! also apt to make the most ludicrous ms
! takes. Toward morning, about daybreak
| have frequently mistaken the first fam
buzz of some minute fly, within foot o
r so of my ear, for the call of moose tw'
: or three miles off.
t About ten O'Clock the Indian gave it N
in despair and came down the tree; W
t rolled ourselves up in or rugs, pulled Tn
e hoods of our blanket coats over our heads
, and went to sleep. | awoke literally shaK
ing with cold 1t was still the dead o