Numerous species of the goatsucker, well known as the bird of night,
inhabit the forests of the Amazon as well as the settled districts.
Their pretty mottled plumage is destitute of the lustre which is
observed in the feathers of the birds of day. One is nearly the size of
the common wood owl. Its cry once heard will never be forgotten. It
seems like one in deep distress. "A stranger," says Waterton, "would
never believe the sound to be the voice of a bird. He would say it was
the last groan of a midnight murdered victim, or the cry of Niobe for
her children before she was turned into stone. Suppose a person in
great sorrow, who begins with a loud note, Ha, ha, ha, ha! and so on,
each note lower and lower, till the last is scarcely heard, pausing a
moment or two between every note, and some idea may be formed of the
moaning of the largest goatsucker."
Other species articulate some words so clearly, that they receive their
names from the sentences they utter. One cries "Who are you? who, who,
who are you?" Another bids you "Work away; work, work away." A third
shrieks mournfully--"Willy come, go Willy, Willy, Willy come, go;" and a
fourth exclaims--"Whip poor Willy; whip, whip, whip poor Willy!"
Happily for it, neither the negro nor the Indian--who believe it to be a
bird of ill-omen--will venture to kill it; supposing the bird to be the
receptacle for departed souls, come back to earth, unable to rest for
crimes done in their days of nature.
Ignorance alone has given the goatsucker its name. When the moon shines
bright, it may be seen close by the cows, goats, and sheep, jumping up
every now and then under their bellies. "Approach a little nearer,"
says Waterton; "he is not shy, he fears no danger, for he knows no sin.
See how the nocturnal flies are tormenting the herd, and with what
dexterity he springs up and catches them as fast as they alight on the
bellies, legs, or udders of the animals! Observe how quiet they stand,
and how sensible they seem of his good offices; for they neither strike
at him, hit him with their tails, tread on him, nor try to drive him
away as an uncivil intruder. Were you to dissect him, and inspect his
stomach, you would find no milk there. It is full of the flies which
have been annoying the herd."