100 PLUVIALIS AUREA. 



time or not, they certainly do not forsake them. The nest 

 is a slight hollow in a tuft of moss, or on a dry place among 

 the heath, irregularly strewed with fragments of withered 

 plants. The eggs, of which the full number is four, are 

 placed, as usual in this genus, with their small ends together. 

 They are much larger and more pointed than those of the 

 Lapwing, being on an average two inches and one-twelfth in 

 length, and an inch and five-twelfths in their greatest trans- 

 verse diameter. The shell is thin and smooth, of a light 

 greyish -yellow, or pale greenish-yellow, or cream colour, 

 irregularly spotted, dotted, and patched with dark brown, 

 and sometimes having a few light purple spots interspersed, 

 the markings larger toward the broadest part. The young 

 leave the nest immediately after they burst the shell, and 

 conceal themselves by lying flat on the ground. At this 

 period, the female evinces the greatest anxiety for their 

 safety, and will occasionally feign lameness to entice the 

 iutruder to pursue her. I have several times seen one fly off 

 to a considerable distance, alight in a conspicuous place, and 

 tumble about as if in the agonies of death, her wings flapping 

 as if they had been fractured or dislocated. The eggs are 

 delicious, and the young birds when fledged not less so. 



"When the young are able to fly, the Plovers collect into 

 flocks, but remain on the moors until the commencement of 

 winter, when they advance towards the pasture lands, and 

 in severe weather betake themselves to the low grounds near 

 the shores. During continued frosts, they feed on the sands 

 and rocky shores at low water, and in general during the 

 winter remain at no great distance from the sea. 



When a flock alights at this season on a field, the indi- 

 viduals disperse, run about with great activity, and pick up 

 their food. Sometimes one finds them so tame that he can 

 approach within fifteen yards, and I have often walked 

 round a flock several times in order to force them together 

 before shooting. In windy weather they often rest by lying 

 flat on the ground, and I have reason to think that at night 

 this is their general practice. In the Hebrides I have often 

 gone to shoot them by moonlight, when they seemed as 

 actively engaged as by day, which was also the case with 



