WATCHING RINGED PLOVERS, ETC. 27 



a-coo-ee, coo-ee " flits with them over marsh and moor. 

 Sometimes a bird will come flying alone, somewhat 

 low over the ground, in a hurrying manner, very fast, 

 and making a sound with the wings, as they beat 

 the air, which is almost like the puffing of an engine 

 — indeed, one may easily, sometimes, imagine a train 

 in the distance. As one watches him thus scudding 

 along, tilting himself as ever, now on one side, now 

 on another, all at once he will give a sharp turn as 

 if about to make one of his wide, sweeping circles, 

 but almost instantly he again reverses, and sweeps 

 on in the same direction as before. This trick adds 

 very much to the appearance, if not to the reality, 

 of speed, for the smooth, swift sweep, close following 

 the little abrupt twist back, contrasts with it and 

 seems the more fast-gliding in comparison. Or one 

 will fly in quick, small circles, several times repeated, 

 a little above the spot where he intends to alight, 

 descending, at last, in the very centre of his air- 

 drawn girdle with wonderful buoyancy. 



A hooded crow now flies over the marsh, and is 

 pursued by first one and then another of the peewits. 

 There is little combination, nor does there seem much 

 of anger. It is more like a sport or a practical joke. 

 It is curious that the crow's flight has taken the char- 

 acter of the peewit's, for they sweep upwards and 

 downwards together, seeming like master and pupil. 

 I have never seen a crow fly so, uninfluenced, and 

 this, again, gives an amicable appearance. I have 

 seen a peewit make continual sweeps down at a 

 hen pheasant as she stood in a wheat-field, striking 

 at her each time with its wings, in the air, obviously 

 not in play but in earnest. The pheasant dodged, or 



