156 
WHIP-POOR-WILL. 
day. In rainy or very cloudy weather, it sleeps less, and is more on the 
alert. Its eyes are then kept open for hours at a time, and it flies off as soon 
as it discovers an enemy approaching, which 'it can do, at such times, at a 
distance of twenty or thirty yards. It always appears with its body parallel 
to the direction of the branch or trunk on which it sits, and, I believe, 
never alights across a branch or a fence-rail. 
No sooner has the sun disappeared beneath the horizon, than this bird 
bestirs itself, and sets out in pursuit of insects. It passes low over the bushes, 
moves to the right or left, ©lights on the ground to secure its prey, passes 
repeatedly and in different directions over the same field, skims along the 
skirts of the woods, and*settles occasionally on the tops of the fence-stakes 
or on stumps of trees, from whence it sallies, like a Ply-catcher, after insects, 
and, on seizing them, returns to the same spot. When thus situated, it 
frequently alights on the ground, to pick up a beetle. Like the Chuck- 
will’s- widow, it also balances itself in the air, in front of the trunks of trees, 
or against the sides of banks, to discover ants, and other small insects that 
may be lurking there. Its flight is so light and noiseless, that whilst it is 
passing within a few feet of a person, the motion of its wings is not heard 
by him, and merely produces a gentle undulation in the air. During all 
this time, it utters a low murmuring sound, by which alone it can be dis- 
covered in the dark, when passing within a few yards of one, and which I 
have often heard when- walking or riding through the barrens at night. 
Immediately after the arrival of these birds, their notes are heard in the 
dusk and through the evening, in every part of the thickets, and along the 
skirts of the woods. They are clear and loud, and to me are more interesting 
than those of the Nightingale. This taste I have probably acquired, by 
listening to the Whip-poor-will in parts where Nature exhibited all her lone 
grandeur, and where no discordant din interrupted the repose of all around. 
Only think, kind reader, how grateful to me must have been the cheering 
voice of this my only companion, when, fatigued and hungry, after a day 
of unremitted toil, I have planted my camp in the wilderness, as the dark- 
ness of night put a stop to my labours ! I have often listened to the 
Nightingale, but never under such circumstances, and therefore its sweetest 
notes have never awakened the same feeling. 
The Whip-poor-will continues its lively song for several hours after sunset, 
and then remains silent until the first dawn of day, when its notes echo * 
through every vale, and along the declivities of the mountains, until the 
beams of the rising sun scatter the darkness that overhung the face of nature. 
Hundreds are often heard at the same time in different parts of the woods, 
each trying to out-do the others ; and when you are told that the notes of 
this bird may be heard at the distance of several hundred yards, you may 
