Nighthawk Notes 



117 



while the males occasionally flew by so close as to show their little 

 white throats. 



I found the young at noon, June 24, and that night I saw one leave 

 the nest. Next day we went to get their picture, but they were gone. 

 At dawn next morning I made them another call, hoping to find them 

 at home, but they were not where I expected, and I started away dis- 

 appointed, when the old birds showed their anxiety by flying swiftly about 

 me and calling out rapidly "pick, pick, pick, pe-uk." I returned and soon 

 found the little ones within a few feet of the nest. They looked like 



"NOT FRIGHTENED, BUT ANGRY" 



little gray and white downy chickens not old enough to run, and were 

 about as large as a newly hatched bantam; but they proclaimed by their 

 cries that they were Nighthawks, just as the young Chickadee sometimes 

 tells his name before he is old enough to leave his hollow stub. To 

 make sure of them there was now only one way: They must take a 

 bicycle ride with me to the village photographer. Their father was wait- 

 ing for them at half past eight when I took them back, asleep on the 

 nest but faithful still. When they were two weeks old they visited the 

 photographer again. At this time they were five and a half inches long 

 and spread twelve and a half inches. Their legs were nearly three inches 

 long and so strong and muscular that they could run nearly as fast as 



