404 THE POORWILL. 
No. 156. 
POORWILL. 
A. O. U. No. 418. Phalznoptilus nuttallii (Aud.). 
Description.—4dult: A narrow band of pure white across throat ; below this 
in abrupt contrast a band of black; under tail-coverts clear creamy buff; the three 
outer pairs of rectrices tipped broadly with white or buffy white; remaining 
plumage an exquisite complex of skeletonized black centers of feathers with bufty 
and intermingled dusky marginings, the whole producing a frosted or tarnished 
silvery effect; black most conspicuously outcropping on back and on center of 
crown; bufty “silvering’” most complete on sides of crown, wing-coverts, and 
upper surfaces of tail-feathers; black of underparts appearing chiefly as bars 
where also mingled with pale olivaceous; flight feathers finely and fully banded, 
ochraceous and blackish. Bill black; feet (drying) dark brown; iris’ brown. 
Length: 7.00-8.00 (177.8-203.2); wing 5.50 (139.7); tail 3.50 (88.9); tarsus 
.65 (16.5). 
Recognition Marks.—Strictly Chewink size but appearing larger; smaller 
than a Nighthawk, which it superficially resembles in coloration. Poorwill cry 
heard a hundred times to once the bird is seen. 
Nesting.—Eggs: 2 laid upon the bare ground, creamy white with a faint 
pinkish tinge, oval to blunt elliptical oval in shape. Av. size, .69 x .75 (25.2x 19). 
Season: c. June tst; one brood. 
General Range.—Breeds from the western portions of the Great Plains west 
to the Cascade-Sierra Ranges, north into British Columbia, Alberta, etc. ; south in 
winter thru Mexico to Guatemala. 
Range in Washington.—Not common summer resident in treeless portions 
of eastern Washington. 
Authorities.—Antrostomus nuttallu Cassin, “Illustrations,” (1856) p. 237. 
CRS: IDE, IDA SS IIs 
Specimens.—Provy. C. 
THE sun has set and the last chore is done, all save carrying in the 
brimful pail of milk, which slowly yields tribute of escaping bubbles to the 
evening air. Sukey, with a vast sigh of relief, has sunk upon the ground, 
where, after summoning a consoling cud, she regards her master wonderingly. 
But the farmer boy is loath to quit the scene and to exchange the witching 
twilight for the homely glare of the waiting kerosene; so he lingers on his 
milk-stool watching the fading light in the western sky and dreaming, as only 
a boy can dream, of days which are yet to be. Every sense is lulled to rest, 
and the spirit comes forth to explore the lands beyond the hills, to conquer 
cities, discover poles, or scale the heights of heaven, when suddenly out of the 
stillness comes the plaintive cry of the Poor-will, Poor-will — poor-will. It is 
not a disturbing note, but rather the authentic voice of silence, the yearning 
