CHAPTER IV
Spider Eyes had hardly finished talking when they heard the faint cry of “Whip-poor-will!”
They had surely heard that cry before.
But what did it mean?
They flew in the direction from whence the sound came.
Then stopped and listened again.
Once more the cry came; and they saw sitting on the lowest branch of a maple-tree a small brown bird with red and white spots on his body.
“Why, he is talking or calling to some one,” said Pointed Toes. “We know of that bird, too, but have never heard him call before. He flies high, and he flies low, so he must surely know all about the beautiful world.”
They then flew up and rested on the branch beside the bird; but he did not see them, and continued to sing his mournful strain: “Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will!”