156 THE SECOND BOOK OF BIRDS 
white band across the breast. He comes out only 
in the evening, and he flies low, without making 
a sound. He rests lengthwise of a log or fence, 
not across it as most birds do. His feet are too 
short to clasp a perch. 
On his log or fence the whip-poor-will sits and 
sings while he waits for his supper. You all 
know his song, his lively “ whip-poor-will ” over 
and over many times. It is a delightful evening 
sound, which I love to hear. It is said that his 
notes have been counted, and he has been found 
to repeat them several hundred times without 
stopping. 
When moths or other creatures which fly in 
the night come along, he catches them in his 
big mouth. But he is not obliged always to wait. 
Sometimes he flies near the ground like a shadow, 
looking for prey, and he often hops awkwardly 
along the road, for the same purpose. He picks 
up straggling insects, and in the West locusts. 
The whip-poor-will mother makes no nest. 
She finds a little hollow in the ground, among 
leaves or near bushes in the woods, and that’s 
good enough for her nestlings. She lays two 
eggs, speckled and mottled so that they look like 
the ground and leaves around them. She looks 
almost the same herself. You might walk close 
to her and not see her. 
