how near you are, and partly because he 

 knows that his soft colors hide him so well 

 amidst his surroundings that you cannot see 

 him, however near you come. This conn- 

 dence of his is well placed, for once I saw a 

 man step over a brooding woodcock on her 

 nest in the roots of an old stump without 

 seeing her, and she never moved so much as 

 the tip of her long bill as he passed. In the 

 late twilight when woodcock first stir abroad 

 you see only a shadow passing swiftly across 

 a bit of clear sky as Whitooweek goes off to 

 the meadow brook to feed, or hear a rustle 

 in the alders as he turns the dead leaves over, 

 and a faint peeunk, like the voice of a distant 

 night-haw r k, and then you catch a glimpse of 

 a shadow that flits along the ground, or a 

 weaving, batlike flutter of wings as you draw 

 near to investigate. No wonder, under such 

 circumstances, that Whitooweek passes all 

 his summers and raises brood upon brood of 

 downy invisible chicks in a farmer's wood lot 

 without ever being found out or recognized. 



My own acquaint- 

 ance with Whitooweek 





