﻿84 



Bird- Lore 



My companion had been in this locality the day before and had 

 stumbled, as he put it, upon the nest of a Whip-poor-will. The place had 

 been marked by the breaking of twigs along the line of easiest approach, 

 and now we were back, armed with camera and plates, to spend the day. 







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WHIP-POOR-WILL ON NEST 



Carefully we crept up the hill, intent upon avoiding the noise of crackling 

 twigs and keeping our way. 



Our destination was at last reached, but where was the nest ? All that 

 could be seen besides the underbrush were dead leaves and branches. Only 

 the keenest search revealed it. Not twenty feet away sat the old bird on 

 her eggs. Motionless as the brown leaves around her, she showed confident 

 faith in her resemblance to surroundings for concealment. We were allowed 

 to come almost within an arm's length before she gave any indication of 

 life, and it was no wonder that my friend first found her by "stumbling" 

 over her. If we had not stopped to focus our cameras she would probably 

 have allowed us to walk by. However, our method of becoming acquainted 

 through the camera must have seemed questionable, or at least have been 

 bad taste with the goatsucker family, for she quietly slipped off into the 

 bushes, uttering no other protest than a low, gutteral chuck. 



The nest — a little hollow in last year's leaves — contained two creamy 

 white eggs thickly blotched with delicate shades of brown and lavender. 

 While the old bird sat on a log near by, I photographed the eggs and then 

 placed the camera as near as was advisable to the nest ; using the long tube, 

 I retired with the bulb to a partially hidden nook to await her return. 



In a few moments she came back to within ten feet, but, seeing that 

 there was still something unusual about the landscape, she squatted length- 



