234 BULLETIN- 14-2, UNITED STATES NATIONAL MUSEUM 



and looked at me. Full of excitement, but still rather skeptical as to the like- 

 lihood of finding eggs, I lay down and watched her, but at the end of an 

 hour and a half I could come to no conclusion, for the bird only strolled about 

 and preened herself nonchalantly. I was not even certain of her sex, and her 

 solitude and her quiet behavior made me doubt whether, after all, she might 

 not be a nonbreeding bird. Nevertheless, I marked the place and turned home- 

 ward, meaning to come back next day. On the morrow I turned out early 

 and tramped over 8 swampy miles of tundra. The second pair of sand- 

 pipers were not to be seen, but the first bird was still pottering round the 

 same spot. To-day she was a little more demonstrative and flew about un- 

 easily. Once she uttered a sharp, anxious note, tcick-irick-icick, two or three 

 times repeated. By this time I was convinced that the nest was close at 

 hand, but it was difficult to locate it, for although the bird could dodge me 

 successfully enough behind tussocks of moss only 6 inches high, my person 

 unfortunately was too bulky for these, the only available hiding places. The 

 ground was on a very gradual slope. On the right hand and on the left were 

 two small tarns, still covered with blue ice. In the distance grazed some herds 

 of reindeer, and once a Samoyede sledge glided swiftly over a ridge. Heavy 

 drifts of snow still lay in the sheltered hollow, and the sleet showers that 

 came slapping over the tundra made me glad to wrap myself up in my Bur- 

 berry coat. 



The bird had whirled away round the tarn at my approach, so I hid myself 

 as well as I could behind a tussock and settled down to wait for her return. 

 Twenty minutes passed — half an hour. " It's time she was coming back," 

 thought I, and turned my head carefully to reconnoiter. And lo and behold, 

 not 30 yards behind, the sandpiper stood and studied me contemptuously ! She 

 had been watching all the time. " What a fool ! " doubtless would have been 

 her comment if she could have spoken. It is no use to try and gull the 

 waders; up to a certain point I believe that they can almost see you think! 



I retired abashed to another hiding place about 50 yards farther up the 

 slope. The bird at once showed her appreciation of this move by flying toward 

 the spot where I had first seen her. She was so small that it was very diffi- 

 cult to mark her as she tripped between the tussocks. When I thought that 

 she must be settled on her eggs I jumped up quickly. She took wing at once, 

 but when I went to the place whence she had risen there was no sign of the 

 nest. This happened twice ; but as she returned to the same spot each time, 

 I knew that the treasure was there all right and that patience would win it. 

 I marked the bird down by a dodge that I used when looking for gray plover's 

 eggs under similar circumstances and which is described elsewhere; but each 

 time that I flushed her she seemed to jump up from a different place. She 

 was so little and so nimble that she could run over the moss for some yards 

 before she was seen. The next time I gave her ample time to settle down 

 and lay still in the wet, sucking lumps of sugar until I nearly fell asleep. 

 Then all at once a Buffon's skua came overhead, flying low in the squally wind. 

 I snatched my gun and shot him as he flew by, and as he fell I saw the sand- 

 piper spring up from a spot where I had marked her once before. I left the 

 skua and ran up to the place. The bird began to call again and drooped a 

 wing to decoy me away. Half a minute's search and there was the nest at 

 my feet. 



Eggs. — The clutch consists of four eggs normally, blunt pyriform 

 in shape with slight gloss. Walter describes the ground as pale 

 yellowish white with greenish tinge and large and small blackish- 

 brown spots, more confluent at large end. There are also a few pale 



