9 
THE NIGHTJAR. 
their descent in mid-air, and “ tumbling ” at times somewhat 
after the manner of a tumbler pigeon. They are light sleepers 
and easily disturbed by any unusual noise. When many rooks 
are roosting together, absolute silence is not maintained for 
long ; an occasional drowsy half-suppressed caw may be heard at 
all hours of the night coming from some sleeper ill at ease, pos- 
sessed perhaps of a hazy idea that all is not right and tight. 
Possibly, too, there .may be dreamers among them given to 
talking in their sleep, for homo sapiens is by no means the only 
dreaming animal. Dogs are notorious dreamers, and I have 
heard a foal of only a few weeks old “ whinny ” softly in his 
sleep. Should anyone happen to approach the trees on which a 
company of rooks have settled themselves for the night, they 
keep perfectly still and quiet, sometimes allowing him to pass 
almost directly underneath them before retreating, hoping, no 
doubt, by this means to escape detection. 
G. T. Rope. 
Blaxhall, Suffolk. 
THE NIGHTJAR. 
few people have the opportunity of studying the 
nightjar in its haunts, perhaps a few words from my 
own observations would not be unacceptable. I will 
not go into the details of its nesting habits, &c., as they 
are given in most books on birds ; its peculiar habit of perching 
along instead of across a branch is a well-known fact. It has, too, 
at least three different cries, which is not generally mentioned 
in text books — namely, the ordinary “ chur-r-r-r,” uttered when 
perched, a single whistling note “ hwitt,” made when flying, 
and a kind of “ chuck,” made when two meet in the air. The 
favourite haunt of a nightjar is an open common, covered with 
gorse and fern, a few bushes scattered about, perhaps a few 
trees, though these do not seem essential to this bird. It 
appears to return to the same locality year after year. 
Let me assume a bright afternoon and see whether one can 
be put up. During the day it lies very close, and will not rise 
until almost trodden on, for the bird seems intuitively to know 
that its plumage harmonises well with its surroundings. The 
particular place visited is an open part of some beautiful woods 
in Surrey, covered with heather and bracken, with few flr trees 
dotted about, some young birch trees on one side and a couple 
of stunted old oaks close by, the whole surrounded with pine 
and deciduous trees. Walking through the woods the rendez- 
vous is approached, the wood-lark is singing overhead, and the 
chiffchaffs and willow-wrens are chanting their monotonous 
notes close by. In previous rambles I have put up a nightjar 
