THE DOTTEREL 225 



it is yet unaware whence it comes. It is a scent, as I 

 have said, of distinction, and a scent which under the 

 influence of a summer's sun is almost overpowering. No 

 other plant has this aroma, but sometimes I think that 

 curious perfume from the flowers of our garden azalea 

 has some resemblance to this essence of the high hills. 



I suspect those Dotterel nesting on the highest 

 Scottish plateaux have a nesting season even more i)re- 

 carious and more full of uncertainty than the Ptarmigan. 

 One such plateau which I know well stands nearly 

 4000 feet above the sea, and almost every season between 

 the end of May and the middle of July a snowstorm of 

 greater or less severity is experienced at this height, the 

 plateau being covered with snow to a depth of a foot or 

 more. There is no doubt that a great number of Dotterel 

 lose their eggs or young every year, yet they seem un- 

 willing to resort to the lower hill-tops. There is only 

 one plateau in Scotland, so far as I know, where a 

 considerable stretch of green grass is met with at the 

 4000-feet level, and here I saw a solitary representative 

 of the Dotterel family in mid-July 1913. 



As is so often the case with the Dotterel, the bird showed 

 reluctance to take wing, this giving cause for suspicions 

 that she had a nest in the neighbourhood, but after a 

 careful search I came to the conclusion that this particular 

 bird was free of family cares, though possibly a snow- 

 storm which swept the hill a week before may have 

 destroyed the eggs or youngsters. 



There is extreme grace in the flight of the Dotterel. 

 When an intruder is in the vicinity of her eggs or young — 

 or rather his eggs or young — because, as I have mentioned, 

 it is supposed to be the husband to whom the task of 

 rearing the family is allotted — the bird at times flits rest- 

 lessly and rapidly across the hill, backwards and for- 

 wards, the clean-cut wings moving with swift and powerful 



p 



