FAR AND NEAR 



one thousand and eighty-eight blows, with only a 

 barely perceptible pause here and there, as if to 

 catch its breath. Then it stopped about half a min- 

 ute and began again, uttering this time three hun- 

 dred and ninety calls, when it paused, flew a little 

 farther away, took up the tale once more, and con- 

 tinued till I fell asleep. 



By day the whip-poor-will apparently sits motion- 

 less upon the ground. A few times in my walks 

 through the woods I have started one up from 

 almost under my feet. On such occasions the bird's 

 movements suggest those of a bat; its wings make 

 no noise, and it wavers about in an uncertain 

 manner, and quickly drops to the ground again. 

 One June day we flushed an old one with her two 

 young, but there was no indecision or hesitation in 

 the manner of the mother bird this time. The young 

 were more than half fledged, and they scampered 

 away a few yards and suddenly squatted upon the 

 ground, where their protective coloring rendered 

 them almost invisible. Then the anxious parent put 

 forth all her arts to absorb our attention and lure 

 us away from her offspring. She flitted before us 

 from side to side, with spread wings and tail, now 

 falling upon the ground, where she would remain a 

 moment as if quite disabled, then perching upon an 

 old stump or low branch with drooping, quivering 

 wings, and imploring us by every gesture to take her 

 and spare her young. My companion had his camera 

 146 



