DUNLIN. 37 
“the birds became réstless, shifting their ground and 
flying short distances to the larger islands of mud still 
left uncovered by the water, and whenever they rose to 
fly from one patch of mud to another they always called 
to each other, and became silent again on re-com- 
mencing to feed.” As the “muds” disappeared beneath 
the rising waters, the golden plovers were usually the 
first to leave and wing their way to the marshes, followed 
very shortly by the ringed plovers and dunlins, whilst 
the last to quit their feeding grounds—with the excep- 
tion of the various species of gulls—were the long- 
legged curlews, which had thus a few minutes advantage 
over their smaller companions. By means of a punt 
in the main channel on a flowing tide he was enabled, 
just before high water, to approach very close to these 
birds, and could thus observe their actions without appa- 
rently creating alarm; for at such times, as he remarks, 
“not only is their feeding ground gradually brought 
within narrower limits every minute, but the birds 
themselves are brought closer together, and are so busy 
feeding that they do not notice so much the approach 
of a punt.” Then is the moment for a fatal shot, but 
how much more satisfactory, with no hostile intentions, 
to adopt Mr. Harting’s plan, and sculling quietly up to 
them, within a few yards, watch the movements of these 
little sandpipers “perfectly unconstrained in their element 
of ooze and sea-wrack, running on the mud in the 
most graceful and varied attitudes.” At high water he 
invariably found dunlins in small parties scattered about 
the “ronds” and marshes of the adjoining rivers. In 
these localities, when fired at in small flocks, the birds 
usually scattered themselves in all directions, and 
dropped again on the same marsh in different places, 
and with a little caution they could be flushed singly 
like the jack-snipes, which were commonly met with 
at the same time. Both at this time also, and again 
