“Around him the chorus had begun, great swarms of creatures that he guessed to be insects, frogs maybe, everything else in this infernal country that had a voice. Why night? he thought. They don’t say a thing all day long. The sun goes down and they have some kind of contest to see who can croak and buzz the loudest. Just to keep us awake, I guess. Revenge for slapping at them all day, killing their cousins.”
