Notes on loaders seen in the Isles of Scilly.



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kept, in fact it seems there are few birds that will not do in captivity

with an enterprising aviculturist.


My experience of keeping any of these “ shore birds ” is

confined to the common oystercatcher, and what a delightful bird

he is with his wild warning cry. From my window in the summer

I can hear their voices as they call to each other, at any hour of the

night, and one has only to go early in July and watch one of the

many pairs on the sea-shore to find their young ones, though they are

marvellously clever at hiding themselves on an open sandy beach, the

young being marked in such a way that they are exactly like the

stones and sand. Our last effort at keeping a young oystercatcher

was a dead failure; after having found and caught it with much

trouble my sister put it safely in a wire run near the fresh water

pool. The following morning she was awakened at daylight by the

frantic calling of the parent birds, which continued louder and louder

as they had discovered where their lost child was imprisoned. This

was far too much for my sister who had to get up there and then

and go out and let the poor cherished infant go, to the great delight

of the old birds, who quickly calmed down and allowed my sister to

return to her bed and sleep in peace!


The ringed plover is another of our common shore birds and

goes by the name of “ Kawilly ” by the people in these islands, and

that is exactly the sound they utter—“ Kawilly, kawilly, kawilly”—

in a rippling tone comes across the sand when the tide is low, and

few sounds are more delightful. They are almost the tamest of our

shore birds, and if one is sitting on the beach, will run past quite

close by. Their nests are plentiful along the sandy beaches and

on the flat sand dunes and consist merely of a concave hole in the

sand with usually three eggs, the same as their companions the

oystercatchers. The young might be training for a race-course the

way they run, and when any human being appears they scatter in

all directions till quite out of breath, when they crouch down and

hope they will not be seen, and wonderfully hard they are to see,

especially on a shingle beach or amongst small stones. The old

birds meanwhile become very alarmed, and I have seen them going

through all kinds of antics, pretending to have a broken wing and



