CHUCK-WILL’S-WIDOW.
(Antrostomus carolinensis).
⅗ Life-size.
FROM COL. CHI. ACAD. SCIENCES.
THE CHUCK-WILL’S-WIDOW.
(Antrostomus carolinensis.)
In the wooded ravines and timbered swamps of the southern states, the Chuck-will’s-widow tells of its presence by frequently calling its own name. It, with the whip-poor-will and the night hawk, belongs to the family of goatsuckers and is closely related to the swifts. The family includes about eighty-five species of these peculiar birds, nearly all being natives of the tropics, though nearly every part of the world has representatives. The range of the Chuck-will’s-widow is quite limited. It includes the states from Virginia and southern Illinois southward to the Gulf of Mexico, and through Mexico into Central America. It is also found in Cuba.
Chuck-will’s-widow is a bird of the twilight and night hours. Silent during the daylight hours, its penetrating voice, which is remarkably strong, may be continuously heard in the regions that it inhabits during the evening hours and for a time preceding the returning light of day. It is said that on a still evening its call may be heard for more than one mile. In its large eyes and head, its loose and somber colored plumage, its quiet flight and nocturnal habits it resembles the owls. Its short bill and the shape of the wings, permitting rapid flight, give it a close relationship to the swifts. Its mouth is peculiarly fitted for the capture of insects. The gape is enormous, and when the mouth is fully open, will measure nearly two inches from side to side. It is also aided in ensnaring insects by the long, bristle-like whiskers at the base of the mouth. It will catch and swallow the largest of the night-flying moths, and though it seems almost incredible small birds not infrequently form a part of its diet. An observer found in the stomach of one “among an indistinguishable mass of brownish matter, a small bone, about half an inch long.” In another stomach he found the remains of a hummingbird only partially digested and well enough preserved for him to identify the species. Dr. F. W. Langdon states that he examined the stomach of a female Chuck-will’s-widow that “contained the partially digested body, entire, of a swamp sparrow, intermingled with the feathers of which were numerous remains of insects, chiefly small beetles.”
While hunting for food the Chuck-will’s-widow flies low, often but a few feet above the surface of the ground. In this habit it differs from the night-hawk, which, like the swifts, seeks its food high in the air. Now and then it rests, perching on old logs or fences, from which it will launch forth in pursuit of prey which its keen eyes have sighted. During the day it roosts in hollow trees or upon a large limb in some densely shaded spot.
It does not attempt to build a nest. The two dull white eggs are laid upon the ground or upon leaves in some secluded place in woods or thickets. It is said that this bird, when disturbed at its nest, will remove either its eggs or the young, as the case may be, to a place of safety by carrying them in its mouth.
Mr. Audubon relates the following incident which came under his observation: “When the Chuck-will’s-widow, either male or female (for each sits alternately), has discovered that the eggs have been touched, it ruffles its feathers and appears extremely dejected for a minute or two, after which it emits a low, murmuring cry, scarcely audible to me as I lay concealed at a distance not more than eighteen or twenty yards. At this time I had seen the other parent reach the spot, flying so low over the ground that I thought its little feet must have touched it as it skimmed along, and after a few low notes and some gesticulations, all indicative of great distress, take an egg in its large mouth, the other bird doing the same, when they would fly off together, skimming closely over the ground, until they disappeared among the branches and trees.” Because of its night-flying habit, its somber colors and its peculiar penetrating notes the Chuck-will’s-widow, as well as the whip-poor-will, was considered by the Indians a bird of ill omen.
AN AMATEUR CIRCUS.
A True Story.
We were not like ordinary children—in fact as I look back on our younger days it comes to me ever more strongly how very unlike we were. There was Harvey, my older brother, who never did anything that other children did and was always perpetrating some most extraordinary thing which certainly no one else ever would have thought of. However, in spite of this trait, or possibly in consequence of it, he afterwards became famous. But that is neither here nor there—we were all what the neighbors termed “unexpected,” if they were kindly disposed, otherwise it was some word to the same effect though less mild.
It was always a great blessing to us and one which we received with thankful hearts, that our father was a man of science, and his line of work made him the recipient of a varied assortment of animals which he would bring home alive and keep until he was ready to work upon them. It was only natural that we children should become fond of these creatures and beg that they might be spared the eternal sleep and left to us to play with. This was often granted.