THE NIGHTJAR AND THE SWALLOW. Avy 
the head seems almost to be severed in two, there are 
few insects which it cannot contain, while the strong 
feather-like bristles with which the beak is fringed are 
of great assistance in preventing the escape of the 
victim. Even this provision, however, is supple- 
mented by another, for the saliva of the bird is as 
glutinous as that of the ant-bear or the manis, and 
is in itself sufficient to hold any but an exceptionally 
powerful and active insect. 
Owing to its nocturnal habits, the nightjar is 
seldom seen, excepting by those who are accustomed 
to be abroad after nightfall, and to keep their eyes 
open for the various creatures which are then only to 
be observed. The curious “jarring ” cry of the bird, 
however, is familiar to many who have never caught 
sight of its author, and may generally be heard upon 
a quiet summer evening by any one who takes the 
trouble to listen for it. The great peculiarity about 
this cry is the length of time during which, in many 
cases, it is continuously uttered. I have sometimes 
attempted to hold my breath from the first ‘ churr” 
until the cry ceased, but the bird almost always beat 
me easily, sometimes, so far as I could judge, by at 
least two minutes. 
Now and then, however, the bird breaks up its cry, 
so to speak, into fragments, allowing an interval of a 
few seconds to elapse between its utterances, and then 
repeating its cry for about an equal length of time. 
Only a few days before writing these lines I flushed a 
pair of goatsuckers, which flew past me uttering this 
curiously disjointed cry as they went. The appear- 
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