NORTHWARD WITH THE SHORE-BIRDS 225 
ponds which Audubon, some seventy years ago, vainly tried 
to reach. On this my hrst day upon these Northern islands 
it was delightful that I should be privileged to hear for my 
first time the melodious love-songs of those Northern shore- 
birds, the Wilson’s Snipe and the Least Sandpiper. Of the 
former I shall tell presently. In the vicinity of a small pond 
the little sandpiper was flying about in circles, now low, now 
high enough to be almost lost to sight. The wings were 
beating tremulously under the impulses of love, and the little 
fellow was uttering a continuous mellow twittering, very 
pretty to hear. Many other shore-birds have this habit; it 
may be characteristic of them all. The love-song of the Wood¬ 
cock is an example, and is comparatively well known. 
Seimrating now from my companions, I had almost exceeded 
the limits of my boot-tops in reaching the nests of some 
Rusty Grackles (a northerly species) in a strip of low spruces, 
when I heard a faint halloo, and saw my companion in the 
distance eagerly beckoning. When I reached him he said 
nothing, but pointed down near his feet. He was standing 
just up from a wet depression, in open, barren ground 
which bore only the coarse, sparse grass and the gray moss 
of the arctic barrens. Following his direction, I saw a Least 
Sandpiper trotting nervously about near us. Then, looking 
closer, I saw the nest. This vSandpiper is the smallest of the 
“ Peeps” or “Ox-eyes,” as they are popularly called, which 
in spring and fall flock upon our beaches and marshes, but 
breed in the arctic regions. The nest was merely a round hol¬ 
low scratched out in the moss and lined with a few dry bav- 
berrv leaves. The eggs were four, as is usual with shore-birds, 
and were arranged with the small ends together, which is also 
good form in shore-bird etiquette. They were of a verv dark 
drab color, heavily blotched with brown. My delight may be 
imagined, as I stood gazing at an exhibition which but few 
