66 The Oologists' Record, September 1, 1923. ■ 



of our subscribers overseas; we quote the following extracts as to 

 the Curlew Sandpiper : — 



" On 6th July, as I was returning from a long round over the 

 " tundra that lay in the northern angle of the Yenesei andGolchika 

 " Rivers, all at once I saw a little rufous curlew, which was standing 

 " on a tussock about twenty yards away, watching me quietly. 

 " When I stopped she flew away, but soon alighted again and 

 " looked at me. Full of excitement, but still rather sceptical as 

 " to the likelihood of finding eggs, I lay down and watched her, 

 " but at the end of an hour and a-half I could come to no conclusion, 

 " for the bird only strolled about and preened herself nonchalantly. 

 " I was not even certain of her sex, and her solitude and her quiet 

 " beha\dour made me doubt whether, after all, she might not be 



a non-breeding bird. Nevertheless, I miarked the place and 



turned homewards, meaning to come back next day. On the 

 " way I saw t^^o more Curlew Sandpipers on a high slope of the 

 " tundra, but they were very wild and would not permit a near 

 " approach. 



" On the morrow I turned out earh^ and tramped over eight 

 " swampy miles of tundra. The second pair of Sandpipers were 

 " not to be seen, but the first bird was still pottering round the 

 " same spot. To-day she was a little more demonstrative, and 

 " flew about uneasilv. Once she uttered a sharp, anxious note, 



' Wick-wick-wick ' two or three times repeated. By this time I 

 " was convinced that the nest was close at hand, but it was difficult 

 " to locate it ; for although the bird could dodge me successfully 

 " enough behind tussocks of moss only six inches high, mj^ person 

 " unfortunately was too bulky for these, the only available hiding- 

 " places. The ground was on a very gradual slope. On the right 

 " hand and on the left were two small tarns, still covered with 

 " blue ice. In the distance grazed some herds of reindeer, and 



once a Samoyede sledge glided swiftlj^ over a ridge. Heavy 

 " drifts of snow still lay in the sheltered hollows, and the sleet 

 " showers that came slapping over the tundra made me glad to 

 " wrap myself up in my Burberry coat. 



" The bird had whirled away round the tarn at my approach, 

 " so I hid myself as well as I could behind a tussock, and settled 

 " down to wait for her return. Twenty minutes passed — half-an- 

 " hour. ' It's time she was. coming back,' thought I, and turned 

 " my head carefully to reconnoitre. And lo and behold, not 



