270 Bird - Lore 



far northward, even to the shores of the Arctic Ocean. Some remain further 

 south. The Semipahtiated probably breeds in the Saskatchewan, and is 

 said to do so commonly along the south and west shores of Hudson Bay. 

 The Least breeds sparingly on Sable Island and elsewhere in Nova Scotia, 

 on the Magdalen Islands in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and northward. In 

 migration, it is found over the entire continent, while the Semipalmated 

 species keeps mostly east of the Rocky Mountains. 



While I have not been privileged to study the Semipalmated Sandpiper 

 on its breeding-grounds, I have had good opportunities with the other species. 

 As both are said to be much alike in their nesting habits, an account of those 

 of the Least Sandpiper may suffice for both. It was on the Magdalen Islands 

 where I thus became intimate with the "wee" sandpiper. To appreciate the 

 conditions, one must imagine a barren, open expanse, with a cool temperature, 

 even in midsummer, with plenty of chilling fog. For miles it is moist ground, 

 carpeted with sparse grass and spongy moss, and diversified with occasional 

 patches of stunted spruce or low, sprawling juniper. There are also billowy 

 elevations of sand-dune in the distance, grown up to beach grass. In these 

 lower parts are numerous shallow lakes, anywhere from a few yards across to 

 a mile long, the larger ones with borders and areas of reeds or rushes. Small 

 parties of Least Sandpipers, or single ones, probably males, feed beside these 

 lakes or pools. The females are closely hovering their eggs, which are, here 

 on the Magdalens, laid during the first half of June, with temperature in the 

 forties, fifties and sixties. 



The experience of finding the first nest of this little arctic 

 Nest and Eggs bird will always be memorable. As we tramp over the dark 



arctic moss, we notice a pretty little twittering, and discover 

 a tiny Sandpiper flying around in wide circles, on tremulous wmgs, pouring 

 forth the music that represents the emotions of his little heart. It is the 

 love-song to his mate, who is covering the eggs not far away. We long to 

 find the bird-treasure, and tramp all about, hoping to flush the brooding 

 bird. Our wish is gratified. Inadvertently we have almost trodden on the nest. 

 Away flutters the tiny bird, almost from under our feet, not in rapid flight, 

 but dragging herself over the grass as if she were almost expiring. The nest 

 is a rather deep little hollow in the moss, lined with grass and bayberry leaves. 

 The four pear-shaped eggs look very dark, a drab background, heavily mottled 

 with brown or black. Madam soon returns with her husband, and both trot 

 around nearby, piping their complaints at our intrusion. On one memorable 

 occasion, by setting my camera focused on the nest, I secured a picture of the 

 little brooding mother. 



The chicks are the daintiest little mites that one can imagine ; 

 Young little brown balls, mottled with white, and comical enough 



they are, perched up on the rather long, slender little stems 

 that pass for legs. Frequently they are hatched in the wet pasture-land close 



