48 DECEMBER OUT-OF-DOORS. 
over the ice that covered the small pond 
back of the beach. I put up my glass and 
said to myself, “‘ A killdeer plover!” There 
proved to be two birds. They would not 
suffer me within gunshot, —though I car- 
ried no gun,—but flew off into some 
ploughed ground, with their usual loud vo- 
ciferations. (The killdeer is aptly named 
A/gialitis vocifera.) 
During the month with the history of 
which we are now especially concerned, I 
saw nothing more of them; but by way of 
completing the story I may add that on the 
28th of January, in the same spot, I found 
a flock of seven, and there they remained. 
I visited them four times in February and 
once in March, and found them invariably in 
the same place. Evidently they had no idea 
of making another attempt to reach the 
West Indies for this season; and if they 
were to remain in our latitude, they could 
hardly have selected a more desirable loca- 
tion. The marsh, or meadow, was sheltered 
and sunny, while the best protected corner 
was at the same time one of those peculiarly 
springy spots in which the grass keeps green 
the winter through. Here, then, these seven 
