The Nightjar and his Rattle-Song 



THE nightjar, rising in June from beneath one's feet, 

 from among the heather of a moor, or the dead bracken 

 of a wood, goes away with a strange, fluttering flight, 

 like a great wounded moth a dusky brown form, 

 white feathers showing making not a sound of wing- 

 beat. This way and that it flutters, suddenly to settle 

 again, keenly watching the intruder. Then, looking 

 down, you see perhaps, at your feet, two long, polished 

 eggs, marbled with ash and purple, like large coloured 

 acorns eggs so well matching the bracken or the 

 heather twigs on which they lie for there is no nest 

 that you might never have seen them if the bird had 

 not told the tale. Only the nightjar goes away from 

 under one's feet in this peculiar fluttering way. But 

 it is a very different flight when the bird is hunting 

 moths, beetles, or cockchafers swift, sure, and silent, 

 swallow-like indeed. 



In the month of May the nightjar comes to sing his 

 strange crooning rattle-song, coming faithfully back 

 to an old haunt. By day he sits, concealed by his 

 colour and markings, among the heather of the moor, 

 or the bracken of the wood, or retires to the gloom of 

 some dingle, not stirring, if you come his way, till you 

 nearly tread upon him. His habit of perching length- 

 wise, seeming to lie along a branch, tends also to 

 conceal him, when he sits brooding in the gloaming. 

 HI 



