102 
WHIP-POOR-WILL. 
is a benevolent one ; he preys upon the nocturnal insects that would 
otherwise torment these animals. 
Glen, mountain, pasture, farmyard, — all places are alike to the 
whip-poor-will, when the shadows of the gloaming fall upon the hushed 
earth. But during the daytime he retires to the deep solitude of the 
woods, and reposes there in silence. If disturbed by rash intruder, he 
rises for a few feet, sails low and slowly through the leafy glades, and 
again settles on a low branch or on the ground. The female builds 
her nest in the most inaccessible nook she can find, but always in a dry 
situation, and generally on a heap of fallen leaves. In traversing the 
woods one early day in June, along the brow of a rocky declivity (we 
are quoting from Wilson, most genial of American ornithologists, and 
most ornithological of Paisley weavers), a whip-poor-will rose from 
his feet, and fluttered along, sometimes prostrating herself, and beating 
the ground with her wings, as if quite expiring. Aware of her pur- 
pose, the naturalist stood still, and began to examine the space imme- 
diately around him for the eggs or the young, feeling certain that one 
or the other must be near at hand. But, to his mortification, after a 
long search he could find neither; and he was about to abandon the 
spot, when he perceived a slight mouldiness apparently among the 
withered leaves. On stooping down, he discovered it to be a young 
whip-poor-will, seemingly asleep, as its eyelids were nearly closed ; or 
perhaps this was only to protect its tender eyes from the glare of 
day. He sat down by it on the leaves, and proceeded to make a 
sketch of it. While he was thus engaged, it neither moved its body 
nor its limbs, and only half opened its eyes ; and Wilson left it as 
he found it. After walking about a quartfer of a mile from the spot, 
he returned to look for a pencil he had dropped : the young bird was 
gone. As it was scarcely a week old, it must have been removed by 
the mother ; but how ? 
BIRDS OF THE UNITED STATES. 
Painting the autumnal aspect of the woods, when a spirit of beauty 
pours its mellow richness on the clustered trees ; when the gentle 
wind, like a sweet but impassioned wooer, kisses the blushing leaf, 
