it is not unusual to stumble upon one asleep by 

 day, it is a rare experience to surprise one feed- 

 ing or singing at night. 



One evening I was standing by a pump in an 

 open yard, listening to the whippoorwills as 

 they came out to the edge of the woods and 

 called along the fields. The swamp ran up so 

 close on this side of the house that faint puffs 

 of magnolia and wild grape could be strained 

 pure from the mingling odors in the sweet night 

 air. The whippoorwills were so near that the 

 introdiictory chuck and many of the finer, flute- 

 like trills of their song, which are never heard at 

 a distance, were clear and distinct. Presently 

 one call sounded out above the others, and in- 

 stantly rang again, just behind a row of currant- 

 bushes not ten feet away. 



I strained my eyes for a glimpse of the creature, 

 when swift wings fanned my face, and a dark, 

 fluffy thing, as soft and noiseless as a shadow, 

 dropped at my feet, and exploded with a triple 

 cry of Whip-poor-will ! that startled me. It was 

 a rapid, crackling, vigorous call that split through 

 the night as a streak of lightning through a 

 thunder-cloud. The farmers about here interpret 

 [70] 



