THE DUNLIN 285 



The Dunlins are probably already paired when they arrive 

 on our hills, but it is not until the first days of June that 

 the hen birds scrape the insignificant hollows that serve 

 as their nests, and deposit their inconspicuous eggs, four 

 in number. 



It was on such an early June day that I made an ex- 

 pedition into the home of the Dunlin. The air was 

 redolent with the many sweet scents which seem to be 

 inseparable to the season of early summer on the high 

 grounds. The blaeberry plants yielded up their perfume ; 

 the young shoots of heather, crowberry, and cranberry 

 added their gift. On a high ridge a big herd of deer were 

 standing, where they were outlined with great distinct- 

 ness against the sky. Some fine heads there were in the 

 herd, and they appeared all the more imposing by reason 

 of the velvet which still covered their growing antlers. 

 After a stiff climb the big plateau, stretching away for 

 miles at a height of close on 3000 feet above sea-level, 

 was reached. Here the Dunlin have their home, and have 

 as their companions the Golden Plover, the high-nesting 

 Grouse, and the white- winged Ptarmigan. But while the 

 other birds seek the shelter of the glens in winter, or 

 even move south beyond our confines, the Ptarmigan 

 remains, for is he not, in the thoughts of the Highlander, 

 An t-Eun Adhar, the Bird of the Frost ? Many springs 

 have their source in the plateau of the Dunlin, and in many 

 directions do the burns from them make their way down 

 to the low grounds. 



Along one of these burns the way led for a time, where 

 the grass was springing quickly after its long imprisonment 

 beneath the snow. One snow-patch still lingered ; it was 

 not many yards in extent, and on its surface there lay 

 the peat and other debris drifted on to it before the 

 storms which so often sweep the plateau during the dark 

 months. On the snow a couple of hinds were seeking 



