36 Northern Observations of Inland Birds 



fly through the darkness, coming, passing, fading into the 

 distance, till their notes become a part of one's slumbers. 

 Now and then a honeymoon brace of oyster catchers, 

 the handsomest of our partial migrants, are seen drifting 

 by with the daylight throng, gorgeous with their orange 

 bills and striking plumage, while their sharp, penetrating 

 note is recognizable from afar. They are already mated, 

 and while the curlew packs wheel and manoeuvre up and 

 down the valley flats, while the golden plover bands 

 bank at prodigious speed hither and thither, and the 

 lapwings dot the barren fields, the oyster catchers alone 

 seem to be swayed by a sense of settle motive — they 

 are either going straight there or coming straight 

 back, heedless of the whimsicalities of the remaining 

 rabble. 



Yet not all the oyster catchers are finally mated when 

 they arrive at their spring time haunts, as I have repeatedly 

 witnessed them fighting valiantly for possession of their 

 fair ladies. There were three participants in one of 

 these struggles, and after a lengthy fray, the proved 

 victor strutted confidently up to her, while the other two 

 hung about in the offing, piping dolefully. The hen, 

 who had watched the contest with interest and approval, 

 now turned upon the hero of it, jumped on him, and 

 struck him with her bill, then finally she flew away with 

 one of the ignominious vanquished ! Of such are the 

 spoils of war — an incident which seemed, indeed, to 

 argue true monogamy ! 



The date at which the first lapwing eggs are collected 

 is dependent entirely upon the immediate weather condi- 

 tions. Whether the preceding winter has been mild or 

 severe does not enter into the lapwing's reckonings. 

 These are my notes on the subject made at New Galloway, 

 1919: 



Feb. 23rd Saw first flock of lapwings. 



