would pass the creature for a mossy knot, as it 

 squats close to a limb or rail, sitting lengthwise, 

 unlike any bird of the light. 



We need not expect a bird of such irregular 

 habits as the whippoorwill to have the normal 

 instincts of birds, even with regard to its off- 

 spring. A bird given to roaming about at night, 

 the companion of toads and bats and spooks, is 

 not one that can be trusted to bring up young. 

 You cannot count much on the domesticity of a 

 bird that flits around with the shadows and fills 

 the night with doleful, spellbinding cries. 



The nest of the whippoorwill is the bare 

 ground, together with whatever leaves, pebbles, 

 or bits of wood happen to be under the eggs when 

 they are laid. I found a nest once by the side 

 of a log in the woods, and by rarest good fortune 

 missed putting my foot upon the eggs. Here 

 there was no attempt at nest-building, not even 

 a depression in the earth. There were two of 

 the eggs,— the usual number, — long and creamy 

 white, with mingled markings of lavender and 

 reddish brown. Here, upon the log, one of the 

 birds dozed away the day, while the mate on 

 the nest brooded and slept till the gloaming. 

 [76] 



