720 HISTORY OF THE COUNTY OF WESTCHESTER. 



by the same people. These seem as various as the tribes, or even fami- 

 lies, with which you converse ; scarcely two of them will tell you the 

 same story. It is easy, however, to observe, that this, like the owl and 

 other nocturnal birds, is held by them in a kind of superstitious awe, as 

 a bird with which they wish to have as little to do as possible. The su- 

 perstition of the Indian* differs very little from that of an illiterate Ger- 

 man or Scotch Highlander, or the less informed of any other nation. It 

 suggests ten thousand fantastic notions to each ; and these, instead of 

 being recorded with all the punctilio of the most important truths, seem 

 only fit to be forgotten. Whatever, among either of these people, is 

 strange and not comprehended, is usually attributed to supernatural 

 agency ; and an unexpected sight, or uncommon incident, is often omin- 

 ous of good, but more generally of bad fortune to the parties. Night, 

 to minds of this complexion, brings with it — its kindred horrors, its appa- 

 ritions, strange sounds and awful sights ; and this solitary and inoffen- 

 sive bird, being a frequent wanderer in these hours of ghosts and hob- 

 goblins, is considered by the Indians as being, by habit and repute, lit- 

 tle better than one of them. All these people, however, are not so 

 credulous; I have conversed with Indians who treated these silly no- 

 tions with contempt." 



The favorite places of resort for these birds are on high, dry situa- 

 tions ; it is probably on this account, that they are to be found here in 

 such numbers. The following lines are so appropriate, that no apology 

 can be necessary for their insertion : — 



SONG OF THE WHIP-POOR-WILL. 



Swiftly the hours of day-light have fled, 



Dark hang the clouds o'er the sun's wavy hed ; 



Stilly the cool dews of evening are falling, 



And the night -loving owl from her wood haunt is calling, 



Now swiftly from my dark home I'll silently fly, 



And glide through the glen with my bright beaming eye. 



On the slope of the hill is the gleam of my wings, 

 Through the limbs of the oak where the rain prophet rings, 

 By the skirt of the green wood where hangs the light dew, 

 O'er the grass of the meadow my flight I pursue ; 

 Through the star lighted paths of the forest I'll fly, 

 Aud pierce the gray gloom with my bright gleaming eye. 



a " The Indians say, that when the leaf of the white oak, which puts forth in the spring, is 

 of the Bize ot the ear of a mouse, it is time to plant corn: they observe, that now the whip- 

 poor-will has arrived, ami La continually hovering over them, calling out his Indian name, 

 ' Wekoliflf in order to remind tnem of the planting times, « Hackihack,' 'go to planting corn.'" 

 Vamoyden -note to stanza 27. 



The author of the " History of Virginia " makes mention of a bird, said to contain the soul 

 of one of their princes, by the Indians. P. 1S5. 



