LETTERS FROM ALABAMA. 
71 
with a sort of romance, and to hear it with my own 
ears was one of the pleasures which I had eagerly 
anticipated in coming to this southern region. My 
mind was already in a state of quiet hut high en- 
joyment, and was prepared fully to appreciate a 
long-wished-for gratification. I was almost breath- 
less lest any sound should alarm the bird and 
drive it away, and my ears seemed to strain to catch 
every intonation uttered. It may appear strange to 
you that the voice of a bird should have such an 
influence, but ' such was the fact. The bird con- 
tinued to repeat its call at intervals of two or three 
seconds for about half an hour. After it had been 
some time thus engaged, another answered, the two 
sometimes calling alternately, and sometimes to- 
gether. A third, yet further off, soon joined them, 
after which the first ceased, and flew away. 
The next evening, soon after sunset, I heard them 
calling in every direction, loud and fast, in the woods 
that surrounded the house. I was desirous to see 
as well as to hear them, and so walked cautiously 
into the woods, I found them very shy, however ; 
for, notwithstanding all my precaution, they would 
most vexatiously cease long before I could get suf- 
ficently near ; and though I tried one after another, 
with much perseverance, I tired myself without 
seeing a single individual. 
The note of this singular bird is compared to the 
words chuck-will’s-widow,” but chuck-widow- 
widow,” comes nearer to it; the first syllable uttered 
in an under tone, then a momentary pause, and the 
“ widow-widow ” repeated as rapidly as possible. 
If you take a slender switch, and wave it twice to 
and fro, so as to make it whistle as it cuts the air, 
you will have a very good imitation of it, except 
