THE WHIPPOORWILL 



WHAT farm boy has not heard this 

 birdless voice echoing from the 

 ghostly shades of the thicket 

 close at hand, or scarcely audi- 

 able in the distance? Perhaps you have 

 heard it as you have passed between 

 the wood and the hill over there, com- 

 ing clear from the wood but re-echoing 

 from the hill only the shrill last sylla- 

 ble. Farther away on the distant hill- 

 top you may have taken this last sylla- 

 ble for the piping of the salamander. 

 The "whippoorwill" song belongs with 

 the early May moonlit balmy nights, be- 

 fore the blossoms have lost their best per- 

 fume and before farm work ^as become 

 a mere drudgery. 



It vividly recalls the merry Maybasket- 

 ing frolics,, apparently so necessary to 

 existence on the farm ; the fresh green, 

 fields and woodland blossoms ; the plant- 

 ing season with all its hidden promises. 

 There is, in the warble of the bluebird, 

 glad promise of returning spring; and 

 in the animated whistle of the phoebe 

 reiteration of the earlier promise; but 

 the whippoorwill tells of that delightful 

 season realized. His is not a complaint 

 groaned forth, but a glad announcement 

 of joy fully come. 



My early home nestled in one of those 

 gems of woodland that dot the rolling 

 Iowa prairies. One of my earliest mem- 

 ories of this old home is the twilight 

 choruses of whippoorwills in the door- 

 yard. They often ventured upon the door- 

 step and sang for minutes at a time, ap- 

 parently oblivious of the members of the 

 family seated just inside the open door. 

 On more than one occasion more than 

 one bird occupied the door-step at the 

 same time, all the while apparently try- 

 ing to drown each others' voices in a 

 continuous flow of song. At such times 



the delightful mellowness which one 

 hears, with the birds in the distance, 

 gives place to an almost painful, penetrat- 

 ing shrillness. The more deliberately 

 uttered song is invariably preceded by a. 

 strongly guttural sound not unlike that 

 produced by striking an inflated rubber 

 bag. The near-by song, to my ear, 

 sounds like ''qui ko wee,'' the first syll- 

 able with a strong ''q" sound. I have 

 never heard them sing later than ii o'- 

 clock in the evening nor earlier than 3 

 in the morning. 



It is well-nigh impossible to creep up- 

 on a singing bird in the woods, even if 

 it could be seen in the dim light, but it 

 was not unusual, at my old home for the 

 birds to playfully fly round and round 

 anyone who might be standing out in the 

 yard at twilight. The birds often came 

 so close that the wings seemed to brush 

 the face. The flight is so utterly noiseless 

 that the object of their sport is aware of 

 the presence before he can fully realize 

 what it is. 



The whippoorwill inhabits the eastern 

 portion of the United States, west to 

 eastern North and South Dakota and 

 Nebraska, western Kansas, Indian Terri- 

 tory and Texas ; north to southern Cana- 

 da, into Nova Scotia and Manitoba; and 

 south in winter into eastern Mexico and 

 Guatemala. It breeds in the northern 

 and central parts of its range, and rarely 

 to Florida. 



The nest is made late in May or early 

 in June, in the Northern states. The 

 eggs are two in number, light gray or 

 white, with brown and lilac markings of- 

 ten arranged in scratchings and pencil- 

 ings besides the spots and blotches. There 

 is usually scarcely more of a nest than 

 the leaves lying on the ground; rarely 

 nothing but the bare ground. 



27 



