Snipe, Sandpipers, etc. 



The familiar little spotted sandpiper of ditches and pools, 

 roadside and woodland streams, river shores, creeks, swamps, 

 and wet meadows — of the sea beaches, too, during the migrations, 

 at least — quite as frequently goes to dry uplands, wooded slopes, 

 and mountains so high as the timber line, as if undecided whether 

 to be a shore or a land bird, a wader or a songster. Charming 

 to the eye and ear alike, what possible attraction can a half dozen 

 of these pathetically small bodies roasted and served on a skewer 

 have to a hungry man when beefsteak is twenty cents a pound ? 

 A thrush is larger and scarcely more tuneful, yet numbers of 

 these little sandpipers are shot annually. 



Some quaint and ridiculous mannerisms, recorded in a large 

 list of popular names, make this a particularly interesting bird to 

 watch. Alighting after a short, low flight, it first stands still, like 

 a willet, to look about; then making a deep bow to the spectator, 

 you might feel complimented by the obeisance, did not the eleva- 

 tion of the rear extremity turned toward you the next minute 

 imply a withering contempt. Bowing first toward you, then 

 from you, the teeter deliberately sea-saws east, west, north, south. 

 This absurd performance, frequently and ever solemnly indulged 

 in, interrupts many a meal and run along the beach. A sudden 

 jerking up or jetting of the tail as the bird walks, like the solitary 

 sandpiper, gives it a most curious gait, all the more amusing be- 

 cause the bird is so small and evidently so self-satisfied. One 

 rarely sees more than a pair of these sandpipers in a neighbor- 

 hood which they somehow preempt, except at the migrations, 

 when families travel together; but as two broods are generally 

 raised in a summer, these family parties are no mean sized flock. 

 Startle a "teeter snipe," and with a sharp, sweet peet-iveet, ■weet- 

 weet, it flies off swiftly on a curve, in a steady, low course, but 

 with none of the erratic zig-zags characteristic of a true snipe's 

 motions, and soon alights not far from where it set out. A fence 

 rail, a tree, or even the roofs of outbuildings on the farm have 

 been chosen as resting places. The peet-weets skim above the 

 waving grain inland, their pendant, pointed wings beating 

 steadily, and follow the same graceful curves that mark their 

 course above the sea. 



In the nesting season, which practically extends all through 

 the summer, this is a sand "lark" indeed. Soaring upward, 

 singing as he goes, in that angelic manner of the true lark of Eng- 



