JOURNAL OF MAINE ORNITHOLOGrCAL SOCIETY. 



39 



at some object in an indifferent way as 

 if it were not worth tiie exertion it cost. 

 These birds are the Least Sandpiper 

 (Tringa nuuutilla) or Peep as they are 

 called by the sportsmen. 



We again advance when with a soft 

 twittering peep they take wing to again 

 alight bnt a few yai'ds away. 



We again walk along toward the high- 

 er part of the marsh, the rank brittle 

 grass snapping under our feet, when 

 from out the grass a few yards away 

 without warning, start a number of 

 birds uttering their feeble calls as they 

 fly. They alight in the short grass some 

 distance away. 



We now carefully approach the spot 

 where they disappeared and pause close- 

 ly inspecting the grass. So closely do 

 their colors blend with the grass and so 

 motionless do they remain that for some 

 moments we think we must have been 

 mistaken in the spot. When we are 

 about to advance, one of the birds 

 slightly moves its head and in front of 

 us a few yards away we discover ihem 

 watching us so motionless that wei'e it 

 not for their eyes we should almost 

 think we wei'e mistaken. 



These are the Pectoral Sandpipers 

 (Tringa maculata) or Grass Snipe as 

 they are known to sportsmen. 



Although there may be acres of marsh 

 only one particularpart will be frequent- 

 ed by these birds, and if they aie around 

 they will invariably be found at these 

 places. If we pause for some time they 

 commence searching for food, when if 

 we again approach them they take wing 

 as before mentioned. 



Again we hear the sharp note of the 

 Yellow-leg, and this time we recognize 

 the Summer Yellow-legs (Totanus 

 flavipes) a number of them standing 



along the sandy bottom of a creek, act- 

 ing the same as did their larger relatives 

 of the bay. 



The sun lighting the tops of the trees, 

 we again turn towards the beach. As 

 we pass out among the sand dunes a 

 larger bird than yet observed attracts 

 our attention. It is standing on a sand 

 hill, its long neck and curved bill out- 

 lined against the receding light. This 

 is a Hudsonian Curlew (Numenius hud- 

 sonicus) which has come in from some 

 small islet to vary its marine diet with a 

 few grasshoppers before retiring to its 

 roosting place for the night. The air is 

 now filled with the cries of different 

 species leaving their feeding grounds, 

 and hastening back to the different islets 

 on which they pass the night. 



As we again come out on the beach 

 we see one of our small friends of the 

 da}', deprived of a leg by some sports- 

 man, hopping along on its remaining 

 foot, still struggling for existence with- 

 out even the assistance of a pension. 



The evening is now upon us, the faint 

 glimmering of stars is seen, while a 

 quietness pervades the scene, broken 

 only by the cr}' of some belated bird 

 seeking its companions of the night, or 

 the melancholy chorus of frogs in some 

 distant meadow. 



Wearily we wend our way homeward, 

 the dull thud of our feet resounding on 

 the quiet air. We reach home at last, 

 tired and hungry, but with a feeling only 

 those can have who have spent a day 

 among these environments. 



These observations apply to twenty 

 years ago. Now, should we pass a day 

 under the conditions named, the flats 

 and beaches which then were populated 

 with thousands of the smaller species, 

 would now afford but a few hundred and 



