148 BIRDS 



canny softness like an owl, would be diflScult for one to 

 know were it not for the weird, snappy triplets of notes that 

 tell his name. Every one knows him far better by sound 

 than by sight. Whip-poor-will (chuck) whip-poor-vsUl 

 (chuck) whip-poor-will (chuck) he calls rapidly for about 

 two hours, just after sunset or before sunrise from some low 

 place, fluttering his wings at each annoimcement. But 

 you must be near him to hear the chuck at the end of each 

 vigorous triplet; most listeners don't. In the Southern 

 states a similar whippoorwill is known as Chuck Will's 

 Widow, the name it calls itself at nightfall. 



You might be very close indeed without seeing the 

 plump bird, who has flattened himself lengthwise against 

 a lichen-covered branch until you cannot tell bird from 

 bark. Or he may be on a rock or an old, mossy log, where 

 he rests serene in the knowledge that his mottled, dull, 

 dark brown, gray, buff, black and white feathers blend 

 perfectly with his resting place. He must choose a spot 

 broad enough to support his whole body, for, like his 

 cousin, the nighthawk, and his more distant relatives, the 

 humming-bird and the swift, the whippoorwill's feet are 

 too small and weak for much perching. You never see him 

 standing erect on a twig with his toes clasped around it, but 

 always squatting when at rest. 



A narrow white band across his throat makes his de- 

 pressed head look as if it had been separated from his 

 body — a queer effect like that of the Cheshire Cat in 

 "Alice in Wonderland." The whippoorwill's three outer 

 tail feathers have white ends which help to distinguish him 

 from the night-hawk. He has a little short beak, but his 

 large mouth stretches from ear to ear, and when he flies low 

 above the fields after sunset, this trap is kept open, like the 



