SANDPIPERS, QUAIL, AND KILDEER 
tipped with white and mottled at the upper 
end with dark brown, was curiously like his 
mamma’s. In running he spread his little 
wings like an ostrich, and hid in the grass 
with astonishing rapidity. Poor baby! 
His was a sad fate, for he ate the poisoned 
dye of some fur thrown over him as a 
“brooder.”’ We found him dead from the 
effects. 
One bright day in June we came upon 
a family of kildeer consisting of a mother 
and five little ones. Resolving to try for 
their photos, the Man with the Camera con- 
cealed it in a bush and, retiring thirty feet, 
lay down behind a stone-pile. The old bird 
had become much alarmed upon the first 
suspicion of danger, and flew overhead utter- 
ing her plaintive “ kildee, kildee.” The 
young could not fly, and were only just out 
of the shell; so after some lively chasing I 
captured four of them, one by one. Placing 
them in approximate range of the camera, I 
went to a distant part of the field, hoping the 
mother would go to them. This she did 
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