Dolabella (read by Phil Schemph)
speaker
444 appearances
2 recordings
1 series
first heard Jul 2026
last heard 25 Jul
Dolabella (read by Phil Schemph)’s voice in public audio — every appearance, attributed to the second.
Trend
recordings per month · last 12 monthsRecordings per month over the last 12 months — 2 in all, peaking in Jul 2026 with 2.
Appearances
This proved a static expedition, settled in one place, with no dangers to speak of, no real roughing it.
And we met only after each hunting trip.
But the magic of a full moon had lured me from my laboratory table, and here we were, we two, plotting jungle words, becoming better acquainted in silence than I have often achieved with much talk.
It was nearly midnight.
We traversed a broad trail of white sand, between lines of saplings of pale barked rubber trees, flooded, saturated, with milky grey light.
Not a star appeared in the cloudless sky, which in contrast to the great silver moon plaque was blue black.
These open sandy stretches, so recently etched into what had been primitive jungle, were too glowing with light for most of the nocturnal creatures who, in darkness, flew and ran and hunted about in them, and the lovers of twilight were already come and gone.
The stage was vacant, save for one actor, the night hawk of the silvery collar.
Who's eerie we all?
Or more leisurely and articulate Who are you?
was quarried from stump and log.
There was in it the same liquid tang, the virile ringing of skates on ice, which enriches the cry of the whipper will in our country lanes, and
Where the open trail skirted a hillside, we came suddenly upon a great gathering of these goat suckers, engaged in some strange midnight revel.
Usually they roost and hunt and call in solitude, but here at least forty were collected on the white sand within an area of a few yards.
We stopped and watched.
They were dancing, or rather popping, as corn pops in a hopper.
One after another, or a half dozen at a time, they bounced up a foot or two from the ground, and flopped back.
At the instant of leaving and returning, uttering a sudden explosive who this they kept up unceasingly for five minutes we gave to them, and our passage interrupted them for only a moment.
Later we passed single birds which popped and walked in solitary state, whether practicing or snobbishly refusing to perform in public, only they could tell.
It was a scene not soon forgotten.
Showing 161–180 of 444 · page 9 of 23
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