MIDSUMMER MOONLIGHT iii 



like a dark star from a height where he seemed 

 but a mote in the gold, a smaller, point that the 

 green glint of a real star that had just come 

 through. It was as if his wings had lost their 

 hold on the thinner air of this remote height. 

 He half shut them to his body and dived head 

 foremost on a perilous slant. Then, just as he 

 must be dashed to pieces on the gray rock of the 

 ledge on which I sat, he spread them wide, 

 caught the air that sang through the wide-spread 

 primaries with a clear, deep-toned note, and rose 

 again; and in his "peent, peent" was a quaint 

 note of self-satisfaction and self-praise. 



It is customary to ascribe actions of this sort 

 on the part of a bird to a desire to please and 

 astound the mate who is supposed to look on^with 

 fervent admiration. Sometimes this may be the 

 case, but I think more often the bird, like my 

 nighthawk, does it to please himself. There was 

 no mate in sight when this nighthawk did his 

 sky coasting, nor did any appear afterward. It 

 was after the mating season and I think the bird 

 did it in just pure joy in his own dare-deviltry. 

 He liked to see how near he could come to 

 breaking his neck without actually doing it. In 

 the same way a male woodcock will keep up his 



