The Oologists' Record, March 1, 1923. 



was still and soundless ; the cloud lifted a little, gathered into curious 

 wreaths, sank again, white and clinging, to the ground. Beyond 

 the upper brow of the spur by which we had mounted was an 

 apparently limitless stretch, flat, bare, and lifeless — -tussocky in 

 places, with innumerable patches of small gravelly-white stones — 

 a desolate region of gray moss and harsh short grass. 



Here we stopped for a little — took our bearings, separated, 

 then decided it was hopeless. And at the very moment of our 

 decision a Dotterel fluttered at my feet ! Immediately I stood 

 quite still and looked round me. The little creature was behaving 

 in the most piteous fashion, running backwards and forwards, all 

 round me and sometimes actually between my feet, her wings, 

 drenched with the mist, trailing on the ground and her beautiful 

 white-tipped tail spread out like a fan. All the time she cried 

 distressingly— a plaintive, querulous squeak of utter abandonment 

 and misery. 



Presently I caught sight of the eggs a yard or so from where 

 1 stood — but even before I reached them the Dotterel had settled 

 herself quite comfortably on them, so that I had literally to lift 

 her off. 



At this point I should like to observe that, although I have 

 throughout referred to this Dotterel as the female, I have no other 

 reason for doing so than a purely sentimental one. The plumage 

 was certainly very bright and the chestnut tints especially showy 

 and definite — but I afterwards met with so many birds in which 

 every intermediate shade occurred that I should be loth to pro- 

 nounce an opinion as to the sex of a member of the species, even 

 at close quarters, without actual dissection. 



The nest was a small and very shallow depression on a flat 

 hummock of soil almost bare of vegetation, and beyond a scrap or 

 two of moss and a few blades of grass, which had probably drifted 

 there accidentally, had no lining or other preparation of any kind. 

 The flat hummock lay between two patches of the white stones 

 before referred to, and all round it the ground seemed to have been 

 worn or washed quite bare of growth, possibly by snow. On the 

 whole, it was not such a " picture " as I had been led to expect, 

 and I was to a certain extent disappointed accordingly, even 

 although it was the first Dotterel's nest I had ever seen. 



The three egg were, however, very beautiful, although to my 

 surprise they had been incubated seven or eight days, so that 



