The Whippoorwill, in its migrations, passes from Mexico, Guatemala, and, perhaps, Cuba, through the eastern parts of the United States, northward into the British Provinces as far as the 50th parallel of latitude, and from the Atlantic westward to the valley of the Missouri, where it is replaced by a closely-allied species. Throughout New England, the Middle States, and the Southern Atlantic region, the Carolinas especially, it is rather abundant, and the same may be affirmed of the western limits of its range. In New Brunswick and Nova Scotia, lying outside of our possessions, it is met with but rarely; whereas, in the vicinity of Montreal, and around Hamilton, it is far from being an uncommon summer visitor. There seems to be a notable scarcity of birds in Eastern Maine as we approach the Canadian territory in the north-east. Why the species should dwindle into numbers insignificant as the seaboard is neared, while in the contrary direction it is apparently as abundant as in Pennsylvania, it is not our province to speak with positiveness. Perhaps the somewhat different conditions of soil and climate which prevail in the north-west have much to do with this seeming preference. Unlike most species, the subject of our sketch will, doubtless, when its history has been as carefully studied in every part of its habitat as it has been in the East, be found to breed throughout the vast area of its United States range.

These birds never arrive in old, familiar haunts until the weather has assumed the mild, placid demeanor of spring, and everything points to the complete vanquishment of the winter-god and his merciless hordes of invaders. A chorus of strange, weird voices from the solemn depths of the forest-shades, when night has thrown her sable curtain o'er earthly landscapes, is the first reminder that we have of their mysterious presence. Like an evil genius from the land of dreams they come among us to disturb our slumbers by their lugubrious utterances. But in the daytime, when all respectable beings, whether beast or man, do most delight to be seen and heard, these sylph-like denizens of the air shrink away to the uncertain shadows of the grove, where they spend their time in sleep, or moody silence, or, mayhap, in the concocting of ways to terrify poor, timid human beings. Coming down from these flights of imagination to the prose of real life, we may truthfully say, that they "love darkness rather than light." From the time of their first appearance during the early nights of May until their departure in August or September for the Gulf country and the land stretching southward, they maintain the same shy and retired disposition, concealing themselves from the glare of full-orbed day in close-set forests among fallen leaves and underbrush, and only venturing out in quest of food when the sun has sought his rosy couch beyond the Western wave. With the setting of the day-star, and the stir of the myriads of moths that now make night lively with their graceful motions and riotings, these Night-jars, as they are sometimes appropriately called, emerge from their hiding-places, and rejoice in wanton and luxurious feasting. They are far from being the dull, stupid beings which we would have been disposed to designate them only a few hours before. They are now all nimbleness and grace. Watch them as they sail through the bending, swaying ether as noiselessly as a thistle-down, and as lightly as a balloon afloat, and tell us were there ever more graceful creatures, and any better adapted to the purposes of their being? We apprehend not. What a beautiful and nice adaptation of means to end is here exemplified! Being designed and created to hold in check, in common with others of their kin, the various and multitudinous swarms of insects which fill the nocturnal atmosphere, the Wisdom that never errs has given them a peculiar structure, and peculiar habits. They must seek the darkness of night, and shun the light of day. And in order to capture their prey without startling it, they must move on swift and noiseless pinions, and with the greatest caution. Their prey often being large, a wide gape of mouth is necessary. Everything, even down to the minutest details of structure, declare their eminent fitness for the part which they have to play in the role of life.

Such a decided partiality has our friend for the lovely woods, that he seldom forsakes its time-honored precincts for the open field. The sombre shadows cast by the motionless or quivering leaves upon the ground, and the melancholy streaks of light which fitfully play through the spaces between them, combined with the dark colors of the leaves that repose upon the soil beneath, produce a sort of gray and mellow light which beautifully harmonizes with the sober tints of these birds, and thus adds to their protection. In our travels we have frequently surprised an individual in his slumbers only a few paces away. Alarmed at this unexpected intrusion, the bird would wing its somewhat uncertain flight on swift and noiseless pinions to a place a few hundred feet distant, where it would alight upon a branch, or on the ground. After indicating the spot by a fallen log, or an adjoining bush, we would stealthily and quietly approach the place, straining our vision all the while in hopes of gaining a glimpse of the squatting bird. But before the desire could be gratified, the object of our search would become apprised of our presence, and take to wing. Again and again we have made the attempt to steal upon the bird unawares, but it invariably failed in accomplishment, even when the greatest caution was observed. The means which these birds employ for the detection of danger are both remarkable and wonderful. The visual organs being ill-suited to the bright light of day, and even the mellowed glow of the woods being seemingly too powerful a stimulus, it certainly depends upon other functions than those of sight. The sense of hearing being well-developed, may not this function be called into requisition at such times?

The common appellation of this species is derived from the cry which it emits at night. This cry has a slight resemblance to whip-poor-will, but, by a fertile fancy, it can be construed into a variety of sounds. The syllables are rapidly enunciated only when the bird is squatting on a bush or fence, or any other object near the ground, but never while in flight. It is always heard at night. As the day begins to dawn, it measurably diminishes in frequency and intensity, and finally ceases altogether. The absence of song while on the wing may be accounted for by the fact that the birds are such vigorous feeders, and are so absorbed with the business before them, that they have neither the time nor the disposition to indulge in such pastime. Besides, the wide-open position of the mouth which is assumed while sailing through the air, is hardly one which would favor a free exercise of the vocal powers. When in a restful state, the cry is perhaps the call which the sexes address to each other, or it may be interpreted sometimes as the signal for the resumption of the night's carousal after the day-sleep is over.

For nearly two weeks after their appearance the sexes, although already paired, continue to sleep the daylight away, and spend the nighttime in feasting and revelling. It is not until the middle of May that they become alive to the business which has called them from the land of the agave and loblolly-tree. With due diligence, and with but little time spent in preliminaries, they seek themselves out a spot for a home, where they construct, if at all, the merest apology of a nest. By a prostrate and decayed log, usually where the deepest shadow prevails, the female is wont to deposit her eggs. A slight concavity is ordinarily scooped out by her, in Eastern Pennsylvania, and lined with decayed wood or dried leaves. In other localities, and, to some extent, in the writer's own State, she does not even go to this trouble, but deposits her treasures, without thought-of what she is doing, upon the ground. Whether they rest upon a few loose leaves, or on the bare earth, is all the same to her. Having chosen her humble home, the female begins immediately to lay her first egg. This is followed on the ensuing day by another, and this completes her nest-complement. Incubation is at once assumed by the lady-bird, and seems to be her exclusive business for the space of fourteen or fifteen days. While she is thus occupied during the day, her illustrious partner is seldom to be seen, although it is possible that he is generally at no great distance from the spot, quietly preparing for the night's adventures. Perhaps he is then more considerate, and either sits upon the nest while his wife is away in quest of food, or else acts the part of an affectionate and indulgent husband, and conveys to her lonely chamber the necessary food wherewith to strengthen her for the trying duty which she is engaged in performing.

Few mothers manifest greater love for their children. She will often imperil her own life in their behalf. Her vigilance is wonderful, and the stratagems she practises to draw intruders away from her eggs and young are almost unsurpassed by those of any of our feathered species, excepting the female Maryland Yellow-Throat. On an occasion of disturbance her actions are strange and curious. She flutters as if mounded, beats the ground with her wings as though unable to rise, and performs these movements so successfully as to deceive the most wary and experienced collector. While thus seeking to divert attention from her home, she has even been known to spirit her young away when danger seemed imminent. Mr. Wilson cites a case that came under his own observation. This writer once set to work to delineate a young bird. Having accomplished the desired object, he left the spot, and, on missing his pencil, retraced his steps. On arriving thither, to his great surprise he discovered that the young bird had been carried away to a place of safety, but by what means, he doubtless never learned.

The young leave the nest when they are about seven days old, and are then able to move with considerable swiftness. At brief intervals, while nestlings, they utter a low, plaintive note, which has been likened by Nuttall to the syllables pÉ-ugh. A fortnight longer at home, under the guardianship of the maternal head, prepares them for the stern realities and cold charities of the outside world. They are now able to supply themselves with food, although still members of the same household. At first their food consists of caterpillars which are procured by the parents from the leaves and branches of trees. The different species of measuring-worms, and mature forms of noctuids and tineids among lepidoptera, constitute a considerable portion of their diet. But as they grow older, and are able to feed themselves, they devour immense numbers of ants and grasshoppers. When first hatched, in their helplessness, they depend for safety upon the close similarity which obtains between them and their immediate surroundings.

The eggs of this species are elliptical, being nearly or quite equal at both extremities. The ground-color is a pure creamy-white, and is irregularly scratched and marbled all over with reddish-brown and purplish-lavender lines and blotches, the former predominating. There is considerable variation in the intensity of coloration, some specimens being heavily marked, while others, from the faintness of the tracery, appear bleached or faded. Eggs from New England measure from 1.21 to 1.26 inches in length, and from .75 to .78 in width; from the Middle States they average 1.26 by .89; while specimens from the South and the North-west offer no material differences in many particulars these eggs resemble those of the Chuck-will's-widow, but are purer and more beautiful. There is also a notable resemblance to the eggs of the two European Goatsuckers, which is what the real scientist would naturally expect. In the drawing, the eggs are represented the natural size, and by the side of a fallen log. The male is considerably reduced, and may be readily distinguished from his partner by the white collar of the throat, and by his larger size. He measures ten inches in length, and has an expanse of wings of six and a half inches. The female is proportionally diminished, and is characterized by a light fulvous gorget, and in the absence of the white patch of the tail.

Original Size