THE POOR- WILL. 155 



unless one is close to the bird it can not be readily detected. I have heard the 

 unmistakable song of this species in many places in the West, but although 

 fairly common over a great extent of country, it is much more frequently 

 heard than seen. I have also spent considerable time in vainly looking for the 

 eggs of this species, and only succeeded in obtaining a single set. Its lugu- 

 brious calls are most often heard shortly after dusk, along the sides of rocky 

 canyons in the foothills, and less often on the level plains and the mountain 

 summits; its call note is also occasionally uttered in the daytime, but not often. 



Mr. Fred. W. Koch writes me on this subject as follows: "On the morning 

 of May 5, 1891, in the vicinity of Matarango Spring, in the Coso Valley, 

 California, while walking along a sheep trail on the hillside above the spring, I 

 was surprised to hear a Poor-will call from the opposite hill several yards away. 

 Thinking it singular for this bird to utter its note in the daytime, I stopped to 

 hear it repeated and to make sure of its identity. Just then its mate flew up about 

 10 feet away, and on examination I found a single fresh egg laid on the ground 

 in a little bare spot a few feet in diameter; next day there were two eggs, which 

 were taken. The bird probably uttered the call to warn its mate." This set is 

 now in the United States National Museum collection. 



This species was fairly common near Camp Harney, Oregon, along the 

 slopes of Rattlesnake Canyon, in which the Post was built. It usually arrived 

 here about April 15, and any fine evening after sundown several of these birds 

 would "tune up" and commence calling from different directions along- the sides 

 of the canyon, and keep up their concert for an hour or more. On the evening- 

 of May 20, 1877, while returning to my quarters, I noticed a pair of these birds 

 hopping along the main road directly in front of the officers' quarters, evidently 

 feeding, and subsequently I saw sometimes half a dozen, within a distance of 

 300 yards, similarly engaged. They were quite tame, and would scarcely move 

 out of my way. I more than once approached within two feet of one before it 

 took flight, and then it flew only a few feet before settling down again. A very 

 low, grunting sound, like "pweek pweek," and another caused by the snapping 

 together of the mandibles, were the only noises made while so engaged; they 

 never uttered their ordinary call on this road. On June 4, 1877, a short distance 

 above the Post, I flushed one of these birds on a small plateau, over which 

 numerous bowlders were scattered; the scant patches of soil being covered 

 with sage and other bushes. This bird fluttered and tumbled around me in 

 a circle, which made me suspect that its nest was close by ; but the most careful 

 search failed to reveal it. I am positive a pair nested there, as I could hear their 

 calls in about the same place every night. The Poor-will sits so close and its 

 plumage harmonizes so perfectly with the ordinary surroundings that its eggs or 

 young are only discovered by accident. The only set of eggs obtained by me 

 was found on the dry, barren plains south of my camp on Rillito Creek, near 

 Tucson, Arizona, on August 2, 1872; they were fresh and laid on the bare ground 

 under a small grease- wood bush (Obione) and were fully exposed to the sun. The 

 male was shot. From the late date on which these eggs were found I believe 



