NONSUCH 



acters of a new species of Pseudoscopelus when sud- 

 denly my ears, which were wholly bored with this 

 microscopic work, pulled all the rest of me out of 

 my chair and rushed me outdoors. My focusing 

 hands, my squinting eyes, my technical convolutions 

 had no chance against the sudden aural demand — 

 the call of a passing sandpiper being the electric 

 spark of a sound which had sprung the mine. 



Back and forth overhead swung my yellow-legs, 

 calling as he went — then seaward. My hands 

 needed no help in unleashing and orienting my large 

 glasses, my eyes knew better than to leave this ven- 

 triloquial note in the wide heavens. Down along the 

 top of the barrels I followed him, and almost with- 

 out a break sighted him again, grown twelve times 

 larger, in the lenses. I had a comfortable ledge on 

 which to rest and swivel the glasses. Five hundred 

 feet above the sea he encountered a stiff breeze and 

 for many minutes fought and fought against it. My 

 heart ached, for he was headed due south and I knew 

 that no land this side of Cuba or Haiti would give 

 him rest, and yet here he was using up vitality and 

 strength battling a wall of wind only a few hundred 

 yards off Nonsuch. Suddenly he seemed to give 

 up, and swung around and back in a great circle 

 almost overhead, then the frantic pressing forward 

 began again. If the bird had been the negative end 

 of a compass needle, the austral pull could not have 

 been more continuous. 



Three times he circled and three times lost all he 

 had gained, and then, as so often in my life, I 



124 



