"Whip-poor-wills call their own name after dark, and I think you will hear them when we pass the miller's woods in a few minutes; for some reason they seldom come about the Farm."
"I believe I—am—growing—sleepy," murmured Dodo, trying to be polite and swallow a little yawn, but not wholly succeeding.
"I am very sure that I am," said Olive. "I don't think any of us will sit up much later than the birds to-night!"
"I hear a Veery," said Rap, "and a Phoebe too."
"Whip-poor-will! Whip-poor-will! Church!" cried a loud voice close by, and something like a long-winged Owl almost struck Olive with its wing as it flitted past.
"Oh, my!" cried Dodo, waking suddenly, "that must be a Whip-poor-will, for he called his own name as plain as the Chickadee does; and listen! there are more of them all up the hill."
Soon they passed Rap's house and left him at the gate. When the good old white horses trotted in the gate at Orchard Farm, Quick ran out, barking joyfully to tell them all that had happened during the day, and how he had guarded everything safely; but Dodo was fast asleep with her head on her uncle's arm.
"De death lamb," said Mammy Bun, who came out to help them unload; "don' you go to wake her up, Massa Nat—ole amyl tote her up to bed. Dese am powerful healthy days for you chillness! And Massa Doctor and Miss Olive—if they ain' mare's half gone, too! 'Scorpions am terrible sleepy things—least when dere all over!"