SANDERLING, 121 
on the one hand, and the submerged forest on the 
other, where huge trunks of trees le buried in the 
dark peaty soil, or a stratum of soft blue clay crops out 
amidst the sand, a daily renewed banquet is afforded 
to every species of shore-bird. On these moist level 
sands, the sanderlings are distinguishable by the white- 
ness of their breasts, at a great distance, looking at first 
sight, when feeding towards one, like little lumps of 
white chalk dotted over the surface, which, however, on 
a nearer approach become strangely animated, and the 
light and dark shades of the upper and under plumage 
alternately presented to the eye, have a beautiful effect 
on a bright sunny day. Although, as compared with 
dunlins and turnstones, I always found these birds 
extremely tame; yet from the very nature of the 
eround, it was almost impossible to obtain a shot at 
them on the open sands, as without showing any par- 
ticular alarm, they would always manage, by running 
on and feeding in advance, to keep just out of range; 
but occasionally I surprised a solitary bird by the edge 
of the mussel-scalps, or when too busily engaged with 
the last bit of seaweed thrown up by the waves. At 
high water, however, in small flocks of from five or six 
to about double that number, they were much more 
accessible, and the raised banks of shingle, or the sand- 
hills beyond, afforded means of approach. Their actions 
when feeding are exceedingly pretty, occasionally raising 
their wings over the back like golden plover, without 
attempting to fly, running and stopping with quick 
nervous steps, and apparently travelling with as much 
ease over the large shingle as over the smooth sands. 
When disturbed by the water’s edge, they invariably 
flew out to sea, uttering their shrill but pleasing cry on 
the wing, and circling round would alight again on the 
beach some hundred yards further on. At such times, 
however, like the ringed plover, their most favourite 
R 
