THE GOLDEN PLOVER 207 



panions wheel about and return to the spot, calHng loudly 

 in an attempt to induce their dead comrade to rejoin 

 them. 



Compared with the Lapwing, the Feadag is a late 

 nesting bird, and for several reasons his nesting may 

 become unusually protracted. Breeding as he does on 

 the very exposed moorlands, he is greatly dependent on 

 the weather for the successful hatching of the eggs. Many 

 enemies surround him and his mate in their wild haunts. 

 Grey Crows move silently past, on the keen look-out for 

 booty of any kind, and foxes have their home on the high 

 tops. 



Even in mid-July the Feadag may still be busy with 

 family cares. I shall for long hold pleasant memories of 

 a day that I spent on a certain wild hill during the early 

 part of July, a hill where many a Golden Plover was still 

 tending her young. 



It was early morning when we left our base. The 

 sun already shone warmly, and the glen was full of life, 

 but away westward the big hill was in gloom, and at times 

 grey clouds just touched its summit. For some distance 

 the way led up a wide strath through which there flowed a 

 burn now running dead low as the result of successive weeks 

 of drought. Its pools held many a trout, some of which 

 must have turned the scales at considerably over a pound. 

 From the bushes of broom, and from the bracken on the 

 hillside, Whinchats called incessantly with their metallic 

 alarm cry. They had families, all of them, and strongly 

 resented the intrusion into their nesting sites. Pairs of 

 Sandpipers were tending their chicks at the burn side, 

 and a Dipper, rising at our feet, flew off uttering his sharp 

 alarm note. 



The ground hereabouts is given over to sheep ; Grouse 

 there are, it is true, but they are regarded as a secondary 

 consideration. Thus it was that we were not surprised 



