158 BULLETIN 17 6, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 



their names as plainly. The chuck is uttered on a lower tone than 

 the rest but is distinctly audible at 300 yards or more. At some 

 distance one might be excused for thinking the call 3-syllabled, for 

 it may sound like wilPs-widow, but on still nights the first syllable 

 is plainly heard even across broad bodies of water, as occur over 

 much of the southern coast region. 



The notes are not limited entirely to the dusk of evening or night. 

 The bird sometimes calls in full daylight, either on cloudy or bright 

 days, and sometimes during rains. I have heard it at 1 p. m. on 

 a bright, clear day. It is, of course, not the rule any more than 

 is the cross perching sometimes indulged in, but it certainly occurs. 

 However, it is during late evening and all through the night that 

 the chuck really performs, and it sometimes calls through the entire 

 period. In localities favored by the species, several birds may be 

 calling at once, which results in a jumble and overlapping of notes. 

 Herbert L. Stoddard writes that, never having heard a chuck-will's- 

 widow calling in the daytime, he was "greatly surprised to hear two 

 calling back and forth at 11: 30 a. m. today (May 25, 1928). It was 

 crystal clear and the sun was hot, but these two called over 5 min- 

 utes, exactly as they do in the nighttime." 



In rapidity and frequency, there is much variation. A bird may 

 utter a very few calls or very many. I have counted individual 

 calls many times, and there seems to be no established custom or 

 sequence. The usual interval between the notes is about 2^^ seconds, 

 when the bird is doing a string of them. I counted the 

 calls of a bird just outside my window one night and it ran 

 off 111 without "drawing breath" other than the short spacing 

 between each, 2i/2 seconds. The calls were uttered at the rate 

 of 25 a minute, this series taking about 41^ minutes. One of 

 my longest counts is 176 calls successively uttered without a break. 

 E. S. Dingle tells me that he has counted 300 consecutive calls. On 

 the night of June 2, 1939, at my home in St. Andrews Parish, 

 Charleston, I heard a chuck that beat anything I have encountered 

 yet. I had gone to bed; the night was warm and I was lying near 

 a window, when a chuck started up about 50 yards away in one of 

 the live oaks in my yard. I began counting almost automatically, 

 and kept it up, idly wondering whether it would reach my former 

 record. It did, and then some. I continued to count, and count. 

 Finally, I got up and sat by the window, in order not to miss any 

 of it. The calls were perfectly continuous, and uttered at the usual 

 rate, although twice there was a slight break in perhaps as much 

 as a second's lateness between them. The bird .. shifted its perch 

 twice, moving perhaps a few yards each time, but did not stop call- 

 ing. The total was eight hwidred and thirty- four calls (834). 



