"Things is changing--that's so; and mankind's on the down track. Time was when a reaper would take his sickle and harken to the rustlin' of the yaller corn as he cut his way along, with the smell o' the yearth in his nostrils, and the sight of all manner o' living insects below him. And bymby he would straighten his back and look away over the land, or at the shining layers behind, and then he would stoop to it again with the thoughts busy in his mind as bees about a comb concerning the going out of the wheat in waggons an' trains, an' ships across the sea to the feeding of the nations. An' look at this yer cast-iron reaper; what's it good for but to work for a cast-iron man? That's what's the world's comin' to, with all the people cast in a mould. I'm gwine home!" "Nonsense; come back with me and try the new lot of rolled tabak from the Transvaal." For all his disgust with the Harvester, Uncle Abe did not mind "riding," to the house on the driver's seat; neither was he cast down after supper when he sat out on the stoep. The day's work was done for man and beast and the great quiet of the evening brooded over the place. There we sat and smoked in silence, until the glow died out of the sky, when the night creatures began to stir, sending forth inquiring notes as if to assure themselves that the time was really at hand for the starting of the wonderful orchestra of the insect band. And, as we listened, there rang out above the shrill drummings and chirpings and whistling, the weird, mournful cry of the "ghon-ya," calling "ghon-ya!" "ghon-ya!" at regular intervals, until the melancholy of its far-reaching cry stilled the other noisy voices. Abe stirred uneasily. "There's the lost sperrit," he muttered. "Why, that's the night locust!" "Soh; jes' a locust." "Yes, with a transparent drum in place of a body which he blows out when he wishes to make that noise, and rubs his legs upon the drum." "How big is this yer drum?" "About as large as a hen's egg." "So; and with such a small thunder-bag he can send out a noise that booms further than the greatest drum in the British army. Don't tell me. That's no insect; it's a cry that comes from beyond." "Beyond where?"