274 CHUCK-WILL'S-WIDOW. 



open their mouth to its full extent, and utter a hissing kind of murmur, 

 not unlike that of some snakes. When seized and brought to the light 

 of day, they open and close their eyes in rapid succession, as if it were 

 painful for them to encounter so bright a light. They snap their httle 

 bill in the manner of Fly-catchers, and shuffle along as if extremely de- 

 sirous of making their escape. On giving them liberty to fly, I have 

 found them able to proceed until out of my sight. They passed between 

 the trees with apparently as much ease and dexterity as if it had been twi- 

 light. I once cut two of the quill-feathers of a wing of one of these birds, 

 and allowed it to escape. A few days afterwards I found it in the same 

 log, which induces me to believe that they, like many other birds, resort 

 to the same spot, to roost or spend the day. 



The flight of the Chuck-will''s-widow is as light as that of its relative, 

 the well-known Whip-poor-will, if not more so, and is more graceful as 

 well as more elevated. It somewhat resembles the flight of the Hen-har- 

 rier, being performed by easy flappings of the wings, interspersed with 

 sailings and curving sweeps, extremely pleasing to the bystander. At the 

 approach of night, this bird begins to sing clearly and loudly, and con- 

 tinues its notes for about a quarter of an hour. At this time it is perched 

 on a fence-stake, or on the decayed branch of a tree in the interior of the 

 woods, seldom on the ground. The sounds or notes which it emits seem 

 to cause it some trouble, as it raises and lowers its head in quick succes- 

 sion at each of them. This over, the bird launches into the air, and is 

 seen sweeping over the cotton fields or the sugar plantations, cutting all 

 sorts of figvires, mounting, descending, or sailing, with so much ease and 

 grace, that one might be induced to call it the Fairy of the night. If it 

 passes close to one, a murmuring noise is heard, at times resembling that 

 spoken of when the bird is caught by day. It suddenly checks its course, 

 inclines to the right or left, secures a beetle or a moth, continues its flight 

 over the field, passes and repasses hundreds of times over the same 

 ground, and now and then alights on a fence-stake, or the tallest plant in 

 the place, from which it emits its notes for a few moments with increased 

 vivacity. Now, it is seen following a road or a path on the wing, and 

 alighting here and there to pick up the beetle emerging from its retreat 

 in the ground ; again, it rises high in air, and gives chase to the insects 

 that are flying there, perhaps on their passage from one wood to another. 

 At other times, I have seen it poise itself on its wings opposite the trunk 

 of a tree, and seize with its bill the insects crawling on the bark, in this 



