204 NOTES ON NEW ENGLAND BIRDS 



at once, the succeeding cluck sounding strangely, for- 

 eign, like a hewer at work elsewhere. 



Aug. 12, 1851. There was a whip-poor-will in the 

 road just beyond Goodwin's, which flew up and lighted 

 on the fence and kept alighting on the fence within a 

 rod of me and circling round me with a slight squeak 

 as if inquisitive about me. 



Sept. 9, 1851. The whip-poor-wills now begin to sing 

 in earnest about half an hour before sunrise, as if mak- 

 ing haste to improve the short time that is left them. 

 As far as my observation goes, they sing for several 

 hours in the early part of the night, are silent com- 

 monly at midnight, — though you may meet them then 

 sitting on a rock or flitting silently about, — then sing 

 again just before sunrise. 



[See also under Screech Owl, p. 173; "Wood 

 Thrush, p. 378.J 



NIGHTHAWK 



June 11, 1851. I hear the nighthawks uttering their 

 squeaking notes high in the air now at nine o'clock 

 p. M., and occasionally — what I do not remember to 

 have heard so late — their booming note. It sounds 

 more as if under a cope than by day. The sound is not 

 so fugacious, going off to be lost amid the spheres, but 

 is echoed hollowly to earth, making the low roof of 

 heaven vibrate. Such a sound is more confused and 

 dissipated by day. 



June 23, 1851. It is a pleasant sound to me, the 

 squeaking and the booming of nighthawks flying over 

 high open fields in the woods. They fly like butterflies, 



