390 SCOLOPAClDiE. 



more probably it consisted entirely of males, which, so far 

 as we bad an opportunity of observing, do not take any part 

 in incubation. The ground where the nests were placed 

 was full of tussocks or hummocks, close together, the 

 swampy ground between being almost hidden, or traceable 

 only by rows of cotton-grass. The tussocks are covered 

 with green moss, with now and then a little reindeer-moss ; 

 but this undergrowth is almost hidden with cloudberry, a 

 few species of Juncus, and sundry Carices, with occasionally 

 a few dwarf shrubs and flowers of the tundra. The nests 

 were within a hundred yards of the place where I shot the 

 five Little Stints on the 14th July, on a comparatively dry 

 extent of tundra, gently sloping towards the north-east, 

 lying between the lagoon and the inland sea — exactly the 

 place that one would expect them to breed in, not too 

 swampy, but probably the coolest place the birds could have 

 chosen. The Pytkoff Mountains, though at a considerably 

 greater elevation (513 feet above the level of the sea), are, 

 no doubt, warmer, because more inland. The sandy shore, 

 having little or no cover, would also be hotter from the sun. 

 Facing the north-east, this part of the tundra catches the 

 most of the prevailing winds at this season of the year, and 

 the least sun ; and no doubt the large bay or inland sea on 

 one side, and the open water on the other, help to cool the 

 air. 



*' Our next nest was taken on the 24th of July. Harvie- 

 Brown and I had been up all night, shooting by the light 

 of the midnight sun, hoping to avoid the mosquitoes, and 

 were returning home to our wrecked ship in a thick white 

 morning mist. I was glad to see Piottuch emerge, with the 

 intelligence that he had found another nest of the Little 

 Stint, containing four eggs, about three versts off, and had 

 shot the bird, leaving the nest and eggs for us to take. We 

 walked on together a short distance, when I heard the now 

 familiar cry of a Little Stint behind me, a sharp wick, almost 

 exactly the same as the cry of the Red-necked Phalarope or 

 that of the Sanderling. Turning quickly round I saw the 

 bird flying past as if coming up from its feeding-grounds. 



