WILD WINGS 
224 
haunts and habits of this mysterious tribe than of any order 
in the system of ornithology, \\diile a very few of the s])ecies 
linger on our Southern coasts, the great mass of them push 
on for the far North. Nor do the bulk of them stoj^ till they 
are where the curiosity of man can seldom disturb their pri¬ 
vacy. The eggs and nesting habits of a number of these 
species are hardly known to science. Their summer home is 
the barren grounds along the arctic sea. In the damjD moss 
near some pool, u])on the cold ground, still frozen underneath, 
in the early part of June they scratch a slight hollow, build 
a rude, frail nest of grass, and lay four eggs, pyriform, or 
])ear-shaped, drab-colored, and hea^■ily blotched with black 
or brown. 
Somehow, the mystery and romance surrounding the lives 
of these dabblers in margins make strong appeal to me. 
From the time when in boyhood I hrst heard the clear whistle 
of the Yellow-legs over the salt marshes and the long-drawn, 
j^laintive notes of the plovers on the bay flats, or saw the 
nimble band of sandpij)ers upon the ocean front chased by 
the surf, I ha^'e longed to know more of them all. And, 
though I have not yet roamed quite within the arctic circle, 
latterlv I have been far enough north to find at least strag¬ 
glers from the main bodv settled down to breed under essen- 
tiallv arctic conditions, and to secure some photographs of 
these birds from life, which are probably the first of such 
ever made. 
Never shall I forget the thrill of my first experience with 
these Northerners in their summer homes. It was on the 
Magdalen Islands, in the stormy Gulf of St. Lawrence, well 
up toward southern Labrador, The day was the thirteenth of 
June, clear and cold, the air of the early morning having 
almost the sting of the frost. With a comjoanion and a guide 
I was exploring the extensive marshy l)arrens of the East Point 
