WHIP-POOR-WILL. 423 



bushes, moves to the right or left, alights on the ground to secure its prey, 

 passes repeatedly and in different directions over the same field, skims 

 along the skirts of the woods, and settles occasionally on the tops of 

 the fence-stakes or on stumps of trees, from whence it salHes, like a Fly- 

 catcher, after insects, and, on seizing them, returns to the same spot. 

 When thus situated, it frequently alights on the ground, to pick up a 

 beetle. Like the Chuck- will's- widow, it also balances itself in the air, in 

 front of the trunks of trees, or against the sides of banks, to discover ants, 

 and other small insects that may be lurking there. Its flight is so light 

 and noiseless, that wliilst it is passing within a few feet of a person, the 

 motion of its wings is not heard by him, and merely produces a gentle 

 undulation in the air. During aU this time, it utters a low murmuring 

 sound, by which alone it can be discovered in the dark, when passing 

 within a few yards of one, and which I have often heard when walking 

 or riding through the barrens at night. 



Immediately after the arrival of these birds, their notes are heard in 

 tlie dusk and through the evening, in every part of the thickets, and 

 along the skirts of the woods. They are clear and loud, and to me are 

 more interesting than those of the Nightingale. This taste I have pro- 

 bably acquired, by listening to the Whip-poor-will in parts where Nature 

 exhibited all her lone grandeur, and where no discordant din interrupted 

 the repose of all around. Only think, kind reader, how grateful to me 

 must have been the cheering voice of this my only companion, when, 

 fatigued and hungry, after a day of unremitted toil, I have planted my 

 camp in the wilderness, as the darkness of night put a stop to my labours ! 

 I have often listened to the Nightingale, but never under such circum- 

 stances, and therefore its sweetest notes have never awaked the same 

 feeling. 



The Whip-poor-will continues its lively song for several hours after 

 sunset, and then remains silent until the first dawn of day, when its 

 notes echo through every vale, and along the declivities of the mountains, 

 until the beams of the rising sun scatter the darkness that overhung the 

 face of nature. Hundreds are often heard at the same time in different 

 parts of the woods, each trying to out-do the others; and when you are 

 told that the notes of this bird may be heard at the distance of several 

 hundred yards, you may form an idea of the pleasure which every 

 lover of nature must feel during the time when this chorus is con- 

 tinued. 



