ON THE STAMPING-GROUND 61 



poom!" of the sharp-tails arose at intervals. 

 From there also the mournful, rolling whistle of 

 the Bartram sandpiper sounded clear and faded 

 away; and the strident voices of the crows — the 

 one discordant note in the composition — broke 

 forth all too commonly. But it was from over- 

 head that there came the greatest number of bird- 

 notes, some of them sounding this morning for 

 the first time of the season. Great numbers of 

 Lapland longspurs in company with a few tardy 

 snowflakes, passing northward high in the heav- 

 ens, continuously sang their rollicking songs. 

 For even the snowflake is a musician on such 

 mornings. Several chestnut-collared longspurs 

 went squeaking overhead; he reserves his song 

 while journeying, to sing it later as he hovers 

 over some bare knolL 



Numbers of gay bobolinks drifted over, and 

 sang as they traveled. Like the Lapland long- 

 spur. Bob does not believe in keeping his music 

 till he reaches his summer home, but dispenses it 

 lavishly along the way. The sweet, plaintive 

 whistle of a black-breasted plover floated down 

 as a flock of these handsome chaps sped onward 

 toward distant marshes; and then came a breath 

 of early summer, when with musical twittering a 



