EASTERN WHIPPOORWILL 173 



flip of wings it bocomes a bit of dead wood, a clod of earth, or van- 

 ishes altogether. 



On several evenings late in May 1914, at Wilton, N. H., I visited 

 what appeared to be the whippoorwill headquarters — a dry wood 

 of small deciduous growth bordering a sloping field, on one of 

 which was a moist alder run that ran down to the edge of the wood. 

 When I arrived, between sunset and dark, wood thrushes and 

 ^^eeries were singing, but before they quieted down for the night, 

 the whippoorwills (from one bird to two or three) began to sing, 

 always from the dry wood. They sang intermittently, and gen- 

 erally after each series of lohip-poor-wills their voices came from a 

 different part of the wood. By the time the light was becoming 

 uncertain (when one would have difficulty in reading print) one 

 bird, leaving the wood, worked up the slope, passing the field either 

 by way of the alder run or by a wood of larger growth and an 

 apple orchard that bordered the higher sides of the field. 



On each of the first evenings when I visited the ground, one bird 

 paused in the corner of the field where it joined the alder run, and 

 sang a few times, and on two of these evenings I was able to approach 

 the bird but not near enough to see it. The next evening, therefore, 

 as soon as the bird that was singing in the wood began to change his 

 position, I retired to this corner of the field to await him and sat down 

 on a bank where my figure would not show against the sky. That 

 evening was unusually dark and cloudy. The bird left the wood by 

 the lower side, and at 7 : 50 I heard the song coming nearer and 

 nearer through the alders behind me. Then, two minutes later, it 

 came with startling suddenness from almost at my side. The bird 

 sat on the bare ground at the foot of the bank not 6 yards from where 

 I sat. In bringing my glass to bear upon him, I disturbed him, I 

 think, for he flew silently away. He alighted, however, on a rock and 

 began to sing. He was now 12 yards from me and on a level with 

 my eyes. His side was toward me, and he faced nearly in the direc- 

 tion from which he had just flown. He sat flat on the stone with 

 his head thrown slightly backward and upward and, on alighting, 

 immediately began to sing. 



The song at close range sounded like cuch-rhip-oor-ree^ the final 

 note accented and held longer than the other three, although the rhip 

 was louder and longer than the oor. The song was remarkably 

 regular; twice, however, the bird increased the tempo, and once he 

 doubled one note — either the rhip or the oor. After a pause the 

 cuch was invariably the first note given when he continued his song. 



Even in the dim light the band of white across the throat was 

 clearly visible, and twice during each repetition of the cuck-rhip- 

 oor-ree this band was drawn backward — slightly at the cuch^ mark- 



