But
what shrieks, what reproaches, what remonstrances, what fierce
maledictions or anxious questions are exchanged by those winged pilgrims
in an unfamiliar tongue!
In the resonant darkness you hear the dismal uproar circling above the
houses sometimes for a long while; and as you can see nothing, you feel,
in spite of yourself, a sort of dread and a sympathetic uneasiness until
the sobbing flock has passed out of hearing in space.
There are other sounds that are peculiar to that time of year, and are
heard principally in the orchards. The fruit is not yet gathered, and a
thousand unaccustomed snappings and crackings make the trees resemble
animate beings. A branch creaks as it bends under a weight that has
suddenly reached the last stage of development; or an apple detaches
itself and falls at your feet with a dull thud on the damp ground. Then
you hear a creature whom you cannot see, brushing against the branches
and bushes as he runs away; it is the peasant's dog, the restless,
inquisitive prowler, impudent and cowardly as well, who insinuates
himself everywhere, never sleeps, is always hunting for nobody knows
what, watches you from his hiding-place in the bushes and runs away at
the noise made by a falling apple, thinking that you are throwing a
stone at him.
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