FRAGMENTS FROM THE SEASHORE. 251 



OYSTER-CATCHER ON NEST. 



induced many birds that were constantly moving 

 their heads from side to side to sit still and listen 

 intently while I made a time exposure upon them 

 by mewing like a cat, I held forth in lowest and 

 sweetest feline tones. The result was as little 

 expected as it was desired. Instead of staying 

 to listen, the brooding bird shot off the nest 

 instantly, and for a solid hour and a half walked 

 round and round angrily, picking up pebbles and 

 turning over small stones with his wedge-shaped 

 bill. From time to time he stood on an elevated 

 rock, and, facing the wind, puffed out his plumage, 

 and shook himself or stretched his wings as if 

 aweary of the whole business. 



I had now endured over three hours of cramped 

 misery, kneeling behind the camera, with a bitter 

 wind whistling through every chink in the dry 



